Diamonds Are Not A Woman's Best Friend
by SWWoman
Summary: Alistair Wesley is back, and this time he has a plan to prevent John Reese from interfering in his scheme.
1. Chapter 1

**Before**** anyone asks, not this is not the sequel to Wolves Mate for Life. That will be posted after this story is done. ****This story is in the same world with Get Carter Again.**

**Shout out to my beta, ReeseisLAVAhot. You rule! Thanks to SassyJ for helping me make Wesley British enough to be believable!**

* * *

**Chapter 1 - Looking for Information**

The door to the Visitor's Center opened with a clang and Carl Elias entered. He had been quite surprised to find he had a visitor. It was not Harold's day to visit and he was not expecting any of his men.

Elias did not recognize his visitor and he was instantly wary. This man was British, according to the guard, and Elias had no British contacts, so there was no telling what this well-dressed stranger wanted. The stranger's suit was designer, perfectly tailored and expensive. His cuff links and watch looked just as expensive. But despite his high end packaging, Elias sensed this was a deadly man. Oddly, he reminded Elias a lot of John Reese. Perhaps it was the military bearing, perhaps it was the expensive suit wrapped around a vague sense of menace.

The man stood up and offered Elias his hand, "Good afternoon Mr. Elias. My name is Alistair Wesley."

Elias raised an eyebrow and shook the offered hand, "I'm afraid your name doesn't ring a bell with me, Mr. Wesley. What can I do for you?"

Wesley sat down at the table, followed by Elias. "We have never crossed paths, Mr. Elias, but we do have a mutual…acquaintance."

"Oh?" Elias said. He was quite curious now, but still wary.

Wesley opened the folder sitting on the table and handled Elias a picture. Elias looked at the piece of paper in his hand. The photo was taken from a security camera, that much was obvious, and the photo was of very poor quality, but he recognized John immediately.

Wesley was speaking, "I see you recognize The Man in a Suit."

Elias nodded and handed the picture back to Wesley, still wary of this well-dressed but dangerous man. "Yes, I know him."

"Delightful!" Wesley smiled a predatory smile. "This man ruined my plans last time I was in New York and cost me a lot of money."

Elias chuckled in amusement at his visitor, "He's good at that."

"So I have heard. I have a new project in the works and I am looking for information on this man, information I can use to neutralize him. I am willing to do you a favor in return; all you have to do is name it."

Elias shook his head, still smiling in amusement, "I'm afraid I cannot help you, my friend."

Wesley seemed caught off guard, "I'm afraid I don't understand Mr. Elias; I assure you I will make a very good ally."

Elias nodded, "I don't doubt that Mr. Wesley and I do hope we can do business in the future. But in this matter I must refuse. You see, I owe this man my life." Elias noted the stranger's surprised expression and his smile got just a bit bigger. He was enjoying this. "Oh, he didn't know who I really was at the time he saved my life. He honestly thought I was history teacher who wandered into some unfortunate circumstances. Regardless, I do owe him a blood debt. Besides, I find him rather refreshing in his Boy-Scout type view of the world."

Wesley studied Elias intently for a moment and then nodded, "I understand. Mr. Elias and I must say I am quite impressed with your sense of honor."

Both men stood up and they shook hands affably. "I do hope we can do business in the future. Cheerio." And Wesley took his leave.

Once outside the prison, Wesley folded his tall frame into the car waiting for him. "That was fast," his associate commented.

"Honor among thieves, Ian," Wesley sighed. "Seems John Reese once saved Carl Elias's life and so Elias won't help us."

"Well, I'll be damned," Ian laughed, "A crime lord just restored my battered faith in humanity."

* * *

The last surviving Mafia Don looked up as the door to his office opened and his 3 o'clock appointment was escorted into his office. Luciano Grifoni leaned back in his chair and crossed his legs as he looked over the extremely well-dressed stranger. The stranger barely even glanced at Grifoni's bodyguards; he was obviously used to being around well-armed and dangerous men; probably because he was quite dangerous himself, if his reputation was accurate. Despite the fact the stranger had come unarmed and alone, Grifoni suspected that this guy was fully capable of taking down several of his men before they killed him if this meeting went south.

The stranger stood on the other side of the desk and smiled at Grifoni. Grifoni allowed himself to give the man a small smile back as he rose from his chair, "Alistair Wesley, I assume?" he growled in his low, gravelly voice.

Wesley reached his hand across the desk and gave the Don's hand a firm shake, "Yes, and you must be Don Grifoni, delighted to meet you at last. I take it Mr. Barrington vouched for me?" Wesley's accent was a standard middle class accent, the same one used by the BBC announcers, probably pounded into him at school. It wasn't quite refined to be upper class, but then men in Wesley's profession were rarely born in to the higher classes.

Grifoni nodded. "Yeah, he says you're legit. I won't ask how you know him."

Wesley nodded cheerfully as he took a seat in the armchair across the desk, "It's better that way, for both of us."

"With Barrington, it usually is. Would you like a drink?"

"Water, please."

Grifoni waved his hand at his bodyguard who poured Grifoni a whiskey and gave Wesley a bottle of water from the bar fridge.

Grifoni waited while Wesley took a sip and then asked, "So Mr. Wesley, to what do I owe the pleasure of your company?"

Wesley reached into his briefcase and Grifoni's bodyguard stepped forward and reached for his gun, his eyes intent on the stranger. Wesley paused and raised an eyebrow at the Don.

Grifoni growled at his man, "Didn't you search his briefcase when he got here?"

"Yes sir."

"Then let the man get his stuff out, will ya?"

"Yes, sir." The bodyguard dropped his arm and stepped back, but continued to stare hard at Wesley.

Grifoni nodded to Wesley and Wesley withdrew a folder from the case. He opened the folder, withdrew a picture and pushed it across the desk to the Don. Grifoni looked down at the picture and his lip curled into a snarl. The picture was obviously taken from a security camera, it was grainy and blurry, but he still recognized the person in the picture.

It was the goddamn Man in a Suit.

Wesley was watching the Don's face and saw the grimace of recognition. "I take it you are familiar with this individual?"

"Yeah, he's fucked up a lot of my operations. They call him the Man in a Suit. No one knows his name except that his first name might be John and that only narrows it down to half of New York."

Wesley nodded, "That means we have something in common. Last time I was in New York he interfered in what would have been a very lucrative project for me. His interference was very costly, to the tune of millions of dollars. I have another project in the works and I would like to learn what I can about him so I can neutralize him."

Grifoni snorted, "Good luck with that. This guy is good. No one knows his real name or where he lives or who his boss is."

"Oh come now, surely there is something you can tell me about him? He's been operating in New York for a couple of years now," Wesley prodded.

Grifoni really did not like having to admit to this Brit that The Man in a Suit had remained so mysterious and elusive, it stung his pride.

"This guy is some do-gooder who has taken down God only knows how many operations. He's got some serious money and brains behind him. He's the muscle, word is he's former Special Ops. I don't doubt it, he's got the skills. There's a list of about seventy-five cops in the NYPD that used to work with us who are now in jail because of this guy. Half of Riker's would like to get their hands on him right now."

"Yes, yes, I know the stories. I've heard them all. I need a weakness, something I can exploit. Does he have any friends? Does he drink? Do drugs?"

"No drink, no drugs, that we know about, anyways. But he's got a couple buddies. Some little dweeby guy with glasses and a limp. Calls hisself Crane when he surfaces, but he doesn't surface often. But that guy's even more elusive than The Man in a Suit. He's only been seen a few times, and only when he wanted to be seen. Like the Suit, no one knows who he really is or where he lives.

"The only other person he is known to associate with is a detective working out of the 8th precinct, nosy bitch by the name of Carter. Those crooked cops I told you about? When they went after her, the Suit dangled their captain off a ten story building until he agreed to call the dogs off. That captain still wound up with a bullet in his back a few weeks later. I don't think it was coincidence."

Wesley looked thoughtful, "So he cares for this Detective Carter?"

Grifoni took a sip of his drink. "Yeah, word on the street is that she's untouchable. Everyone who has a beef with her has wound up dead or in jail since he came to town."

Wesley raised an eyebrow, "As I recall, didn't Detective Carter save your life when Carl Elias was killing off the Dons of New York?"

Grifoni made a rude noise deep in his throat, "You've done your research, congratulations," he said sarcastically. "She's still a cop and an annoying, righteous bitch. I don't owe her squat."

Wesley gave the Don a calculating look, "I see. Well you have upheld your end of the bargain, I shall uphold mine." Once again Wesley reached in his attaché case, pulled out an envelope and tossed it on the desk. "That is the address and current alias of the snitch for whom you have been hunting. He's living in a quaint little village in the southern portion of Ireland. I would suggest hiring some Irish professionals to take him out; an American would be spotted a kilometer away in that out of the way hamlet."

Grifoni reached for the envelope, "Thanks, Wesley. It's been a pleasure doing business with you."

Wesley stood up and shook hands with the Don, "Likewise, Mr. Grifoni." Grifoni's bodyguard showed him out.

Outside, Wesley climbed back into the car that been patiently waiting for him at the curb. Ian pulled out into traffic smoothly and headed uptown. He glanced over at Wesley, "How did it go this time?"

Wesley sniffed, "Loathsome individual. I hope next time our paths cross I have the pleasure of killing him. The man has no gratitude or appreciation for the woman who saved his miserable hide. At least Elias refused to work with us because John Reese saved his life. But I did receive some interesting information. I know how to keep Reese out of our affairs now."

Wesley activated his phone, "Philip, I need you to hack the NYPD personnel files and get me all the information you can on a Detective Carter, female, currently assigned to Eighth precinct. It appears that she is the Achilles heel of John Reese."


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2 – New Number**

John Reese and Jocelyn Carter sat next to each other in a booth in the very back of their favorite diner across from Joss's son Taylor.

"Doing anything after school today?" Joss asked the teen as she sipped her coffee.

Her son looked up from the plate of scrambled eggs he was wolfing down, "I might hang out with Dante and Stew, I'll text you and let you know later. Are you going to be home for dinner?"

Joss nodded with a smile. "I think so. If something comes up I'll let you know."

Taylor inhaled the last of his breakfast and stood up, giving both Reese and his mother fist bumps in the process, "See ya later!" And he was gone.

Joss shook her head as she watched her son go. "I can't believe how tall he's gotten, he'll be as tall as you soon, John."

John smiled, "And he came pretty close to besting me playing one on one the other day. He's becoming a man."

Joss sighed, "Sometimes I want my little boy back."

John leaned over and gave his lover a kiss on the cheek, "You've done a good job raising him Joss. You should be proud."

Joss looked over at him and smiled the mega-watt smile that never failed to turn his insides to jelly. "Thanks, John," she said as she laid her hand over his on the table.

They sat like that for minute, just enjoying the other's presence before they had to go their separate ways for the day. Then John checked his watch, "We had better get going. I'll call you later." He gave her another kiss, "Be careful out there."

Joss kissed him back, "I'll be careful. Remember to tell Finch thanks for his help in tracking Pirelli."

"I will."

John gave Joss a couple of minutes head start; the back booth at the Lyric Diner was pretty secluded, and he could be sure no one would see them there, but it was too dangerous if they were seen on the street together. He watched her walk away with a contented smile on his face, still somewhat surprised she wanted to be with him despite everything she knew about his bloody past. He watched her perfectly shaped rear end until she was out the door, wondering what he would do if he ever lost her. The only thing that truly scared John Reese was the thought of losing the woman he loved for the second time in his life.

John firmly pushed such thoughts from his mind; it was time to go to work. He stopped at the register on his way out of the diner to pay the tab and get himself a coffee to go along with a tea for Finch. He carried both to the abandoned library that served as the HQ for the crusade to save the Irrelevants from whatever violent fate they had been destined for.

"Morning Finch," John Reese said as he handed his friend the Sencha green tea he had purchased for him and gave Bear a healthy ear scratching in greeting.

"Good morning Mr. Reese," Harold Finch replied, taking a sip from his tea. "Sleep well?"

"Very well, thanks. Where's Shaw this morning?"

"She is escorting Miss Rojas back to her parents' home in California. After almost dying at the hands of her romantic rival two days ago, Miss Rojas is still frightened to be alone, so I felt it best that Miss Shaw accompanied her home. Their plane took off twenty-two minutes ago from JFK. Miss Shaw will rejoin us tomorrow."

John nodded. Angie Rojas had come very close to getting run down by the jealous ex of her current boyfriend. Angie had struck John as being a rather timid woman and she had been badly shaken by the experience. It was probably good thing that she was taking some to time to be with her family and it was probably a good thing that Shaw was going along to hold her hand until she was safely with them. (Though the thought of the tough and gruff ex-operative sympathetically holding anyone's hand made John smile.)

"Joss said to tell you thanks for the tip on Marco Pirelli. She and Fusco are going to arrest him this morning." John settled into his chair and sipped his coffee.

"I was most happy to assist the good detectives in their case. Since we were able to wrap up our case yesterday so quickly, I had the afternoon free."

"Joss appreciated it. She said you probably saved them a full day's worth of work."

"Always happy to help law enforcement," Finch said. John thought he looked quite pleased with himself.

"Do we have a new number?"

"Yes, Isaac Goldberg, he's a dealer in the diamond district."

"What do you know about him?"

"Fifty-three years old, followed his father into the family business. He's been buying and selling diamonds since he graduated from NYU. He has an office in the Diamond Exchange building, a high security office building catering to diamond traders. Married to wife Gail for 26 years, two daughters, nineteen year old Lessa, student at NYU and seventeen year old Becca, junior at the same exclusive private school that her sister graduated from last year. The family is very well off and they appear to be pillars of the community. "

John stood up and tossed his cup into the trash. "Sounds like he might be a victim then. I had better get eyes on him. Have Joss or Lionel see if anyone in the family has a record and let me know if you find anything."

"Of course, Mr. Reese."

After one last pat to Bear's head, John left for the diamond district.

* * *

Carter looked up as her partner Detective Lionel Fusco walked into the precinct, very late. She arched an eyebrow at him, "Bad traffic?" she inquired sweetly.

Lionel made a sour face, "Yeah, there was fender bender on the bridge and all the lookie-loos had traffic backed up for a mile. I coulda crawled here faster."

"Glad you made it. You ever think about moving closer?"

"Yeah, but I don't want to move further away from Lee."

Joss nodded, "I get that. I would want to stay close to Taylor, too. You ready to go look for Pirelli?"

"Let me get a cup of coffee and check my email real fast. Should only take about 15 minutes," Fusco said as he punched the power button on his desktop.

"You got it partner," Joss said cheerfully and went back to her report. It felt good to be getting another murder off the streets, even if it meant she was going to spend the rest of the day typing up the paperwork.

Twenty minutes later they were on their way to Pirelli's last known address, a small residential hotel with an entrance off the alley in a seedy neighborhood. Joss pulled the car into the alley and parked. They got out, discussing the coming arrest like every bust they had been on together.

Then all hell broke loose.

Two cars squealed to a stop at each end of the alley, blocking them in. Before Joss even had a chance to register what was happening and draw her gun, a dart hit her in the neck. She quickly yanked it out, but not before it could deliver whatever drug it contained. Carter tried fumbled for her gun but her vision was already going fuzzy and her movements felt like she underwater. She tried to support herself using the car as a crutch, but it was no use. Her eyes closed, she slowly sank to the ground and lay still.

Fusco fared slightly better. The dart that was meant for him missed by inches and he was able to draw his gun. However, before he could defend himself, he realized that his partner was in trouble as she slid down the side of the car. The split second he focused on her instead of the ambush cost him. That was all the time their attackers needed to tackle him and wrestle his gun away. He saw one of the men scoop up Carter and run with her unconscious body to one of the cars.

"Carter!" Fusco bellowed, desperately struggling with the men holding back from following the man carrying his partner. But with three highly trained and disciplined men hanging onto to him, he was unable to move and could only watch helplessly as the car with Carter in it sped off, leaving him behind.

"NO!" he cried, as he frantically continued his futile struggle. How the hell was he going to explain this to John? How the hell was he going to explain this to himself?

The three men holding him forced him to the ground. A fourth man knelt down next to him, "Sorry mate, but Charlie missed with the tranquilizers and we can't have you following us. You put up a good fight though. Nighty night."

And Fusco's head was smashed against the ground and he went limp. The men tossed his unconscious body into the trunk of the police car like a sack of potatoes, slammed the lid down, locking him in and drove off.

* * *

Alistair Wesley was nibbling on a bagel in a restaurant on the edge of the financial district when his phone rang. "Any trouble?" he answered.

"Not much. We got a direct hit on the woman with the dart and she went down quick and easy. We missed with her partner and had to put him down the old-fashioned way, but he was no trouble."

"Good, remove the battery from the woman's cell phone and have one of the men bring it to me. I suspect Mr. Reese has ways of tracking it. Drive round for at least an hour, make sure you are not followed and then take her to her new accommodations."

"Ian is already on his way with the phone."

Wesley smiled; he loved it when a plan came together. This one was going swimmingly.

* * *

John was almost to the diamond dealer's office when he got a frantic phone call from Finch.

"John, the Machine just gave me Jocelyn's number!"

John froze while the crowd on the street surged around him. His heart thumped in his chest. Not his Joss, not his anchor. John took a deep breath and steadied his heartbeat.

"Where is she now?" he whispered.

"I don't know," Finch was obviously upset.

"Finch," John said calmly, "Take a deep breath. I need you to track her phone for me."

"That's just it, Mr. Reese. I tried. Her phone is off and the battery has been removed."

John closed his eyes slowly and then opened them, "Where's Fusco?"

"I traced his phone to an alley not too far from you. But he's not answering."

"Send me the location." John spun and starting walking rapidly in the direction of Fusco's phone.

A few minutes later, John found the alleyway where the car he recognized as Joss's assigned police cruiser was parked. He found Joss's badge and gun on the ground just under the car. He also found Fusco locked in the trunk of the police car, still somewhat groggy with a huge lump on his head.

"What happened?" John demanded tightly as he checked Lionel's head.

"There were like eight of them, in two cars. They blocked us in, and then they shot Joss with some sort of tranquilizer dart, while several guys jumped me. They took Joss, slammed my head into the concrete and stuffed me in trunk. Ow!"

John pulled his hand away from Fusco's lump. The detective was going to be sore for a few days but it wasn't serious.

Fusco looked over at Reese, "I'm sorry, John. I tried to fight, but there were too many. I lost her."

John stared at Lionel; the man looked miserable.

"I know you tried Lionel," John said indicating Fusco's lump. "The best thing we can do now is try to get her back. Can you tell me anything about the men who took her?"

"Yeah, they all had British accents."

John looked at Fusco sharply, "You're sure?"

"Yeah. They sounded like an episode of _Doctor Who_." Fusco lightly touched the lump on his head, while Reese absorbed the implications of what Lionel had just told him. John had to take a few more deep breaths. Lionel noticed John's distress and suddenly got very scared.

"John, do you know who has her?'" Lionel asked.

Reese nodded, "Alistair Wesley. Remember that woman at the art festival in the park we rescued last year?"

"Yeah, I do. The one that had all the snipers locked onto her and I had to shoot that fake uniform."

Reese looked grim. "That's the one. The person behind all that was a man named Alistair Wesley, formerly of the British Secret Service."

Fusco's eyes grew wide, "In other words, you but British. Holy shit." He really didn't want to think about a British version of Reese running around causing havoc, one Reese was enough.

Just then Reese's phone buzzed and caller ID showed Joss's number. He answered with a snarl, "What?"

The voice he expected to hear floated out, "John Reese! It's good to talk to you again."

"Wesley, where's Detective Carter?" Reese said softly, but his voice dripped with menace. John Reese, the cold killer was back. Lionel looked at hijm surprise. It had been a while since he'd seen that side of Reese.

"Relax, John. She's quite well. I just need to hang onto her for a day." Dammit, Wesley was enjoying this!

John was struggling to keep calm, to keep his voice level and even. "Why is that?"

"I have another project I'm working on and I need you to stay out of it this time. The lovely Jocelyn is my insurance you won't queer the deal for me."

"What deal would that be?" John asked his voice remaining low and menacing.

"I don't think it's wise of me to give you too many details. Just stand down your operation for 24 hours and I'll give your beloved Detective back to you in one piece. To be sure you are not interfering in my plans, I'll be tracking your phone and one of my operatives has eyes on you right now. If I lose the signal from your phone or I don't hear from my operative every few minutes with the correct code words, I will assume you are not being a good lad. If you're not a good lad, I will kill Ms. Carter. I take it that you understand these rules?"

"Listen to me Wesley," John hissed. "If anything happens to her, there is no place on this planet you will be safe. You know what I am capable of, and all my focus will be on you, on killing you. I will hunt you, no matter how long it takes or how many resources. Do you understand?"

"Oh John, threats are so unnecessary. Just enjoy your time off and Ms. Carter will be back in your arms again soon." And Wesley hung up.

John stood quietly for a few moments as he brought his raging emotions under control. He had dreaded this day for a long time, the day when someone would use Joss to get to him.

It was working.

"Mr. Reese?" Finch's voice in his ear brought him back to reality.

"Yes, Finch", Reese growled.

"I have the location of Detective Carter's phone," Finch said helpfully.

"Give it to me, he's probably long gone, but I'll check it out. And send Fusco the name and address of one of those doctors you have on speed dial. I think he can use some medical attention."

Fusco snorted, "No way, I'm going with you. They snatched my partner right out from under my nose. I ain't letting that go. You aren't the only one who cares about Carter, ya know."

They took the police cruiser to the location where Finch had traced Carter's phone. It was a small cafe on the outskirts of the financial district, filled with men in impeccable designer suits. The perfect place for Wesley to blend in and hide.

As soon as John walked in, the waiter looked at him and asked, "Are you John Reese?"

John glared at the man, "Why?"

The waiter reached into his apron pocket and handed John Joss's phone, "Your friend said you would be by to get this. He said to tell you he was sorry he couldn't wait, but he has a very busy day planned."

John closed his eyes slowly and then opened them again. Fusco noticed that his knuckles were white as he gripped Joss's phone. Fusco was rather surprised the phone didn't explode the way John was squeezing it.

"What now?" Fusco asked.

"Let's go meet Finch," John said tightly.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3 - Face to face with the Monster**

Joss slowly returned to consciousness and looked around. Her head was still fuzzy from the drugs that had been used to knock her unconscious, but it looked like she was in some sort of cage.

Careful of her aching head, she sat up slowly and looked around. Yep, she was in a cage. It looked like the type of cage that electronic stores used to keep their most valuable merchandise safe from theft. It consisted of cyclone fencing cutting off one end of the room, floor to ceiling and wall to wall, with heavy-duty bolts holding the fencing in place with a gate in the middle. She was probably in what used to be an electronics store that had gone out of business. Unfortunately, there were a lot of these places scattered throughout the city, thanks to the cruddy economy.

She looked around hoping for some sort of clue as the where she was or who had grabbed her, but the room was completely clean of anything that could help her.

Just then the door to the room opened and an impeccably dressed tall blonde man with receding hair walked into the room. He smiled a reptilian smile when saw her sitting up.

"Smashing, you're awake! I hope the headache is not too bad," he said in what sounded to Joss's inexperienced ear like an upper class British accent.

Joss glared at him. "I've felt better," she said icily.

The man actually looked sorry, "Oh dear, we may have used a bit too much I'm afraid. I was not expecting you to be so small."

Joss bristled as she usually did when some pointed out her lack of physical size. "Come closer and I'll show you how small I can be!"

The well-dressed stranger looked delighted, "Oh you are a spitfire aren't you? I can see why John Reese adores you. There are aspirin and water on the table next to your cot, feel free to partake."

Joss looked over at the bottle of white pills and the bottle of water sitting next to her and then shot the stranger a suspicious look. He immediately understood what she was thinking and dismissed her concerns with a wave of his hand.

"Oh don't worry, I haven't drugged the water and those really are plain old aspirin. I'll do what I can to keep you as comfortable as possible and return you to your lover relatively unscathed if I can help it. John is going to be quite angry enough as it is."

Joss decided to take the chance the well-dressed man was telling the truth; she needed her head clear if she was going to get out of there. She took a couple of aspirin and sipped the water.

"Where's my partner?" she asked.

"The stout gentlemen? We left him in the car boot, I only needed you to ensure Mr. Reese's cooperation."

"So, how do you know John?" she asked.

"We were in the same business," the man shrugged. "Allow me to introduce myself, my name is Alistair Wesley. I'm not sure if John has mentioned me."

"He has. You're the one who wanted Dr. Enright to kill that CEO on the operating table."

Wesley actually seemed rather pleased that Joss knew who he was. He smiled. "Very good my dear", he said in a condescending tone of voice. "John Reese destroyed a very lucrative business deal for me that day. He cost me a lot of money."

Joss chuckled, "Yeah, he has a tendency to do that. Is that why you grabbed me?"

"Yes, I'm afraid it is. You see, I have another project, again very lucrative, that I am working on here in New York, and I want to make sure your lover is de-fanged. If John behaves and stays out of my affairs for 24 hours, I'll let you go with no harm done. If John doesn't, then I'm afraid I will have to put a bullet in your lovely head."

Joss smiled back at Wesley, "There is a third alternative, John rescues me AND screws up your little plan."

Wesley smiled back, a very wolfish smile and Joss was reminded that she was dealing with a British version of John Reese. "I have taken great pains to see that does not happen. I am fully aware of Mr. Reese's considerable skills and I have planned carefully to neutralize his talents."

"Good luck with that," Joss snorted, trying to sound confident.

Wesley's expression grew hard. "You had better hope I have good luck with that or I will have to kill you. Cheers." And with that, Wesley got up and walked out of the room, leaving Joss alone in her cage.

* * *

John and Lionel took the cruiser to an apartment building on the Upper East Side. As they entered the building Fusco was startled by the building superintendent greeting Reese. "John, good to see you! Your friend is already upstairs."

"Thanks, Ernie."

"Um, John, is there anything I can help you with? Your friend looked upset."

John paused, "See the guy in the brown jacket over there? He's been following me. Keep an eye on him for me. I would prefer that he not be allowed to enter the building."

The super glanced briefly over towards Wesley's man and nodded. "No problem. I have to trim and fertilize the roses in the courtyard, so I'll be able to watch him for you."

"Thanks, Ernie. How's Lily?"

"She's doing awesome. She made the list of Chefs To Watch in some national magazine. She got a big plaque and a fancy dinner in her honor!" Ernie was about ready to burst with pride for his favorite tenant. John could not help but smile.

John led Fusco up to the fifth floor and to an apartment at the end of the hall. Finch was already there with an impressive array of equipment already set up.

"You got a new Bat Cave?" Lionel asked, looking around.

"This is an alternative site that we use when we don't want to betray our primary location at the library. Since Mr. Reese is being followed and cannot lose his shadow without imperiling Detective Carter, I felt it best to use this location for now," Finch explained.

"Who's the super downstairs?"

"He was one of our cases a couple of years ago. This gives us the advantage of not having to explain a lot, since he already knows what we do. He covers for us when we need it."

"You're a regular Boy Scout, Finch, always prepared." Fusco said.

Finch favored the detective with a small smile, "This is a dangerous business. Preparation saves lives."

John returned from the kitchen with an ice bag and handed it to Fusco. Fusco nodded his thanks and put the bag on his lump with a sigh and a wince.

"So now what?" Fusco asked.

"We find Joss first and then we work the number," John said curtly.

"What if the number isn't related to whatever Wesley is doing?" Finch asked.

John stared down at the floor, "I can't take the chance, Finch." His voice hitched, "I can't lose her. I…I couldn't live myself if she…if she gets hurt. Because of me."

Finch nodded. He knew how important Carter was to his friend. If Carter did die, he knew John would self-destruct in his grief. As much as Finch wanted to work this number, and not let another person die who might be saved, Wesley had forced a terrible choice on them. This time he had a choice between saving Carter and saving John's life too, and all the future lives John and Joss would save, or save the one life of the number.

Finch was a practical man and he was particularly good at math, so he understood that saving Carter was the right thing to do. Logic dictated that they save Carter; saving her meant they could many vs. saving one.

Then Finch looked over at Reese and the look of pain and worry in John's eyes made Finch's heart hurt. All of a sudden it wasn't about the math or logic, it was personal now. It was about love and friendship. They had to save Jocelyn, for John's sake. Because John and Joss were his friends and they loved each other.

Fusco's voice broke into Finch's thoughts, "So we leave the number to fend for themselves? Because some Brit criminal says so? That don't sit so well with me. There's got to be a way we can save both Joss and the number."

Finch nodded, "Finding and saving Detective Carter will be our primary focus, but I do have an idea that will allow us to keep eyes on our number, so we can intervene as soon as we know Jocelyn is safely out of Mr. Wesley's clutches."

"I won't risk Joss," John snapped.

Finch looked at directly Reese, "Rest assured John, I will not risk her either. I have called in some help, friends who Mr. Wesley will not be able to connect to us. He knows you, he knows Fusco and I have to assume that he knows me as well. We will have to rely on our friends to be our eyes and ears."

"Friends? What friends?" John blinked.

Just then the doorbell rang. Reese pulled out his gun and swiftly moved to the door, only Finch's voice stopped him. "Let me answer it Mr. Reese, I am expecting one of our previously mentioned friends."

John hid his gun hand behind his back and moved to stand protectively by Finch as the older man opened the door. John was surprised to see a teenager, no older than Taylor, standing there. This child was going to help save Joss?

"Caleb! Thank you for coming so swiftly!" Finch was obviously very happy to see the teenager.

The teen grinned at Finch, "I wasn't going to turn down my favorite math teacher, even if he did ask me to ditch school."

"I am grateful, Caleb. Your assistance today could help us save two lives. Please call me Finch by the way."

Caleb laughed, "That's not your real name either, is it?"

Finch gave the kid an indulgent smile and said nothing.

Caleb turned to Fusco, "Hey, Fusco. What happened to your head? The bad guys get the better of you?"

Fusco nodded, "Yeah, all eight of 'em. How you doing, kid? How's your ma?"

Caleb grinned."She's doing good. Once Mr. Beckner sold my program, I was able to get her into the best treatment program around."

"That's right, Finch told me the deal went through. You're almost as rich as Finch here. Do me a favor, buy Facebook and fix my damn privacy settings."

Caleb snorted with contempt. "Naw, I don't want to deal with that punk Zuckerberg."

"Good thinking."

Throughout this entire exchange, John looked from Finch to Fusco to Caleb, baffled. Finch finally noticed his confusion.

"Caleb, this is my dear friend John Reese. John this is Caleb Phipps. Fusco and I met him while you were, um, detained."

Caleb shook hands with John, "Truth is he saved my life, man."

John smiled softly at the youth, "Finch is good at that."

Caleb shot Finch a look out of the corner of his eye, "Are we saving a life? Is that why you need my help?"

"That is the goal, today especially. The person whose life we are trying to save is Detective Fusco's partner, my dear friend, and the love of John's life." Quickly Finch briefed Caleb on the situation.

"Wow, this dude is harsh," Caleb commented. "What do you need me to do?"

"I need you to track down Mr. Wesley's base of operations where Detective Carter is being held. Try to find out when he got to the US and track him from there," Finch waved a hand at another workstation at a desk against the wall.

Caleb looked at the equipment and a huge smile broke out on the teen's face, "Sweet. I'm on it." Caleb sauntered over to the desk, pulled out an iPod and popped in the earphones. In no time, the music was blasting and Caleb was in his own world, tracking down Alistair Wesley.

Finch stood next to Reese, watching Caleb for a minute. "He reminds me of myself when I was that age. I just hope he can avoid my mistakes…" Finch shook his head and went back to his workstation.

Reese followed Finch. "He has you to guide him, Finch. You can help him avoid those mistakes."

Finch looked at Reese sadly, "Thank you Mr. Reese. I will do my best."

Reese looked down at the floor. "Finch how are we going to keep eyes on Goldberg?"

"I have called upon some different friends for assistance there, Mr. Reese," Finch said as he checked his watch. "As a matter of fact, I need to leave soon to meet with them. Is your shadow still out there?"

Reese glanced out the window, "Both of them are still there."

Finch looked up in surprise, "Both? I thought Mr. Wesley only said he had one operative following you?"

Reese shook his head, "He implied that, but for something this important, I would have at least two people following me. I spotted the second person a little while ago. The primary, the one I'm supposed to focus my attention on, is that guy in the brown jacket. He's been pretty obvious. Once he saw the building had two entrances, he called in some back up to cover the back door. The secondary is the woman with the baby buggy. She's been sitting on that bench for the last hour and she hasn't paid any attention at all to whatever is in the buggy, so we can safely assume it's not a baby."

"I need to get out of here to meet with our friends and give them this equipment. I don't want the men following you to see me. We have to assume they know that you and I work together," Finch was in a bit of a panic.

Reese pulled on his coat, "Then I think I need to make a coffee run. At least one of them will follow me. That should leave one entrance to the building unguarded. You can sneak out that way."

Finch nodded and handed John a new burner phone. "I just purchased this on the way over here. I've programmed the first preset with my new burner phone's number. We have to assume our old phones are compromised at this point."

Fusco peeked out the window, "Hey John the guy in the brown jacket is making a call."

"He's checking in with Wesley, letting him know I've behaved so far. Keep your eyes on him and see how long the interval is between calls, we may need that information later."

"Got it," Lionel replied.

"OK, here I go. Finch wait at least five minutes to give me time to get my tail far enough away so he won't see you leave. We have to assume that they have forced paired my old phone, but we can use that to our advantage. When you are ready to return here, text me with the message 'Any word on Joss?' If it safe for you to return, I'll respond with 'No.' If I respond with anything else, wait fifteen minutes and try again."

Finch nodded, "Understood."

John strode out of the apartment. Lionel watched him walk down the street from the window, "There goes his tail, brown jacket is following him, but the fake nanny is staying put. You should be able to get out of the back entrance now."

Finch scurried out the door with as much speed as his bad leg would allow.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4 – Escape Attempt**

Fifteen minutes later Finch was seated across from Zoe Morgan in an out of the way diner. Leon Tao joined them a few minutes later.

"Zoe Morgan, allow me to introduce Leon Tao. Leon this is Miss Morgan."

They shook hands and then Zoe leaned back, crossing her long, elegant legs. Finch thought Leon was going to fall off his chair gawking. Zoe smiled smugly; the pecking order had just been established.

"So, Harold," Zoe asked in her smoky voice, "What do you need from us? Besides our company, I mean."

Finch pulled out a picture of Wesley. "This man, known to us as Alistair Wesley, kidnapped Detective Carter this morning and injured her partner Detective Fusco."

Zoe snorted, "I'll bet John is out tearing the city apart right now looking for her."

Harold shook his head, "That's just it Miss Morgan. Detective Carter was kidnapped as a hostage to keep Mr. Reese from doing just that. John has interfered in Wesley's plans before and this time he wanted to be sure John was out of the picture."

Leon looked wide eyed, "So if John messes with this guy's plans then he hurts the detective? That's too bad, she's a nice lady. By nice, I mean not crazy. By not crazy I mean she doesn't talk to c-cameras." He stuttered, obviously trying to gather his thoughts as Zoe smoothed her skirt with her long, manicured hands.

"Yes Mr. Tao, Detective Carter's safety depends on Mr. Reese remaining out of action until tomorrow."

Zoe smirked, "Like that's going to happen! I'm guessing you didn't call us here to cry on our shoulders. I take it you have a plan, Finch?"

Finch smiled, "Yes I do. Our latest case was a diamond dealer by the name of Goldberg. You have an appointment with him in about an hour. Leon will assume the identity of one Le Ving, a diamond dealer out of Hong Kong. There is a real Le Ving, who really is a diamond dealer, so the identity will check out. But he has never been to New York and Goldberg has never been to Hong Kong, so he won't know you're not the real Le Ving " Finch passed several pieces of ID over to Leon who pocketed them.

Finch handed Zoe a small cardboard box containing several very small web cameras. "Mr. Tao will keep Mr. Goldberg busy discussing business plans while Miss Morgan plants a few of these web cams in the office and around the building. This will allow us to keep Goldberg under surveillance without Wesley knowing and getting Detective Carter hurt."

"Do you know for sure this Goldberg dude is connected to Wesley's plans?" Leon asked, wondering what Finch was getting him into this time.

Finch shook his head. "At this time we have no idea what Wesley's plan is or if Goldberg is connected to it at all. We just prefer to take no chances while we gather more data."

Leon bounded to his feet, "Well Finchy baby, you can count on me. "

Zoe rose gracefully to her feet, the graceful motion was not lost on Leon as he stared at her. "Piece of cake, Finch. Come along, Leon." Finch watched as Leon docilely followed Zoe out the door like a lovesick puppy.

Finch texted John, "Any word on Joss?" John immediately replied with "No". That was the all clear signal, so Finch got up and started walking back to the apartment.

* * *

Joss had not been sitting idle. She sipped her water carefully, letting the aspirin take effect and clear her woozy head. She decided that it would be to her advantage to pretend she was worse off physically than she actually was, maybe that would help make her guards careless. It was obvious that they were already dismissive of her because of her gender and size; she might as well take advantage of their ignorance.

She examined her cage as carefully as she could without leaving the cot. She didn't want get caught looking for an escape route yet. It was made of standard cyclone fencing stretching from floor to ceiling and wall to wall, cutting off the back third of the room. There was a gate in the center of the fencing, with a heavy duty chain fastened with a standard padlock keeping the gate locked. The fencing was bolted to the floor, ceiling and walls at regular intervals to prevent anyone from bending back the fencing and crawling in. Unfortunately everything looked solid from where Joss was sitting. She sighed, if this Wesley was the British version of her John, she should expect nothing less. John would have thoroughly inspected and tested the cage before he used it, Wesley probably did too.

The rest of the room was empty except for the chair Wesley had been sitting in when he spoke to her. There was a small window, high up on one wall, that she might be able to wiggle through if she could get out of the cage.

Joss looked around her prison, looking for something she could use as a tool to pick a lock or loosen a bolt. She had a standard Army issue cot which consisted of heavy nylon fabric slung between aluminum legs, nothing there she could use. She had a blanket and a pillow, and a small wooden table where the aspirin and bottled water were. The other end of the cage had a chemical toilet and a tarp fastened to the fencing next to the toilet to provide some small measure of privacy. Spartan accommodations, but perfectly adequate for holding someone for 24 hours.

Joss looked around but saw no cameras and she was alone in the room. Wesley and his man were in the front of the abandoned store and had no way to watch her unless someone was actually in the room with her. They must be convinced the cage could hold her. She got up carefully and began examining the cage.

She ran her hands along the bottom of the fencing where it attached to the floor, looking for a weakness. She discovered that one corner was not bolted down very well, it looked solid, but the bolt was actually quite loose, she could turn it by hand. Gently she started unscrewing the bolt and soon had it completely out of the floor, leaving the corner of the fencing free. After that it was easy for her wiggle out of her prison. For once she was glad for she was on the small side; a larger person would not have been able to get out through the small hole.

Joss carried the chair over to the window and climbed up. The crank handle was quite stiff, it was choked with paint from many years of repainting. She used all her might before it budged even a tiny bit and she lost a lot of time struggling with it.

Unfortunately she ran out of time before she could get the window open far enough to slip through. Joss heard the door to the room open and she turned to see one of Wesley's men walk in. She and the man stared at each for a split second, and the man with growl of anger bounded across the room, grabbing her off the chair and roughly throwing her to the floor before she could finish opening the window. He then reached down and grabbed her arm in a painfully tight grip, pulling her to her feet. He slapped her so hard across the face that she cried out in pain and she knew she was going to have a bad bruise on the side of her head from the blow. She would have fallen to the floor again if he had not had such a tight and painful grip on her arm. He drew his hand back and was about to hit her again when they heard a very sharp and very angry, "What's going on here?"

They both turned and saw a furious looking Alastair Wesley glaring at them from the doorway. His arms were folded across his chest and his eyes were glacial. Joss had seen that same hard look many times before on John's face when he confronted a suspect and she mentally braced herself to be beaten for her escape attempt.

"She was trying to escape, I was teaching her the error of her ways," Wesley's minion snarled to his boss, giving Joss a good hard shake for emphasis. Joss very nearly went down again.

Wesley's face grew darker. "Well of course she was trying to escape you moron! That's why you're here, to prevent her from escaping. Did you honestly think she was going to sit passively all day?"

"Um, no, but…" the minion stammered obviously taken aback by the fact his boss's anger was directed at him and not at Joss for her escape attempt. Joss was surprised too, but she wasn't going to show it. If hanging out with John Reese had taught her anything, it was how to handle the unexpected with aplomb.

"Douglas, do you have any idea what a man like John Reese will do to you if he finds out you slapped his woman around?"

"He's just a man…" Douglas began to reply.

"No, I assure you he is not just 'a man.' He is one of the best covert agents I have ever seen. I once watched him take on five heavily armed men in a market in Turkey by himself. He killed them all with his bare hands. My instructions were quite clear, the woman is not to be harmed unless you get the OK from me personally, do you understand?"

"You're not scared of John Reese are you, boss?" Douglas sneered.

Wesley took a step forward and glared at his man. "Douglas, you find new ways to disappoint me. No, I am not 'scared' of John Reese, but I do respect his skills, as should you, before he kills you. We want a clean escape when the job is done. I don't a revenge seeking John Reese on our trail."

Wesley walked over and removed Joss from Douglas's painful grip and gently escorted her back to the cage. "I'm sorry for my employee's brutish assault. I assure you it will not happen again." Wesley shot a meaningful look at Douglas.

Joss quietly sat down on the cot while Wesley locked the cage again. Douglas glared at her, but Wesley was in charge, no doubt about it and Douglas was not going to cross his boss, no matter how much he wanted to exact revenge on her. But Joss knew she would have to be careful, Douglas was one very damaged and violent individual; he had seemed to enjoy slapping her around. Wesley's control over him might have limits, limits that Joss didn't want to test.

Wesley began examining the cage. "Douglas, you and Evan were supposed to be sure the cage was solid and you didn't do it. Look she was able to unscrew one of the bolts!" Wesley exclaimed in disgust.

"Evan, bring me a wrench!" Wesley shouted to the other man in the front of the store. Evan came into the room a minute later carrying the requested tool. Wesley himself screwed the bolt back into the floor and tightened it down with the wrench, making sure Joss would not be able to loosen it again with her bare hands. He then systematically checked every other bolt to make sure they were securely tightened down. Joss grimaced; she would not be able to escape using that method again. She had been fortunate that Wesley had delegated the job of inspecting the cage to Douglas and Douglas had been sloppy, but that opportunity had now escaped her. She would have to think of another way.

Wesley stood up, brushing the dust from the knees of his expensive suit. He smiled pleasantly at Joss. "I am most impressed with your courage and resourcefulness, my dear. I really do hope Mr. Reese behaves himself; it would be such a tragedy if I had to kill you."

Joss gave Wesley the same sarcastic smile that John was so familiar with, "Gee, thanks," she snapped.

"Oh Detective," Wesley said jovially, "Don't be so upset, it's not personal, it's just business." And he left the room. Douglas gave her one last glare and left too.

"I can hardly wait until John goes all business on your ass," Joss snarled at the closed door. Then she went right back to plotting another escape attempt while she held the cold water bottle against her throbbing face.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5 – The Diamond Dealer**

Isaac Goldberg opened his office door to up to Le Ving and his lovely companion. Goldberg instantly noticed just how attractive the woman was and he couldn't help but stare for a few seconds.

Zoe saw Goldberg staring at her and beamed at him while fluttering her eyelashes. Good, he already had her pegged as just another pretty girl. It made her job a lot easier. Now if this little smarmy creep next to her would just do his job, they would be golden.

To Zoe's amazement, Leon did do his job and he did it spectacularly well. Zoe was used to hanging out with politicians, so she knew bull shitters and she was undeniably impressed by the sheer volume of excrement that flowed from the mouth of the little twerp. She would probably put him in the top five BSers of all time. He could probably out BS the mayor and that was saying something. Maybe someday if she was bored, she would introduce Leon to the mayor's aide Alonzo Quinn, then they could collide in the perfect shit storm of worthless crap and hopefully BS each other to death. (Leon annoyed her, but Quinn creeped her right out. There was something off about that man…)

That little fantasy entertained Zoe for several minutes while Leon engaged Goldberg in a discussion of a possible partnership. "Le Ving" wanted to expand his business from Hong Kong to NYC and he needed a partner. Ving was looking for a small dealer with an impeccable reputation, someone just like him, and Goldberg was the perfect size for his needs. "We could make a fortune!" Leon exclaimed, waving his hands.

Zoe patiently waited until she was sure that Leon had Goldberg hook, line and sinker. Then, acting like she was bored, she got up and started wandering around the office pretending to examine the various tchotchkes Goldberg had on display, but in reality discretely planting a couple of cameras around the office. As she planted each camera, Finch would confirm that it was working and she would move on to the next vantage point. In a few minutes, Finch had eyes on Goldberg at his desk and on the door to his office and a clear view of anyone who was sitting across from Goldberg.

"Miss Morgan, can you get me a view of his computer screen?" Finch asked.

Zoe glanced around and spotted a large sick-looking fern on a pedestal in the corner that should have a decent view of the computer screen. "Yes, I think I can," she whispered.

Zoe glided over to the plant and stuck her finger in the dirt. "Mr. Goldberg do you have some water, I think your plant is a bit dry," she said, as sweet as you please. Goldberg was more than willing to be helpful to the pretty woman and eagerly passed her the water bottle he had his desk. "Thanks. I'm terrible with plants. My wife gets tired of buying me new ones all the time,"and he winked at her.

Zoe smiled her most beguiling smile and watered the plant while hiding the camera in the foliage. "Perfect, Miss Morgan," Finch complimented her.

Zoe attempted to signal Leon that she was done, but Leon was too deep into his role playing to notice. Zoe had to stand behind Goldberg and wave her arms before Leon noticed. He finally looked up and saw her frantically signaling him and briefly got a look of surprise on his face. He had been so engrossed in his character that he momentarily forgot she was there. She glared daggers at him and he shot her a hurt look like a puppy who had just been kicked. Fortunately Goldberg was oblivious to the entire exchange.

Leon checked his watch, "We had better be going, but before we go, would it be possible to see the vault?"

Goldberg hesitated. "Only those of us who have offices in this building are allowed into the vault, there are no visitors allowed. I can't even take my wife in there. And even members have to be accompanied by a guard at all times. However I can show you the outside if you like."

Leon grinned, "That will be fine. I just want to make sure my stones are well taken care of."

Goldberg escorted them down to the basement where they saw the massive steel door of the vault. Zoe swiftly planted a camera, this time with night vision capability, behind the fire extinguisher in the hallway while Leon exclaimed over how safe he felt placing his products behind that massive door. Goldberg helpfully bragged to them about all various security measures within the vault while Leon pretended to hang on every word.

Goldberg then walked them to the front door of the Diamond Exchange. "Thanks for watering my plant for me. You saved me from a scolding by my wife," Goldberg told Zoe as he held onto her hand a little longer than was proper for a parting handshake.

Leon, letting his role playing get the best of him yet again, affectionately patted Zoe on her rear end. "That's my Zoe, always helpful! It's been a pleasure meeting you, Isaac."

They shook hands and Leon and Zoe left the building. When they were out the door and down the street, Zoe viciously slapped Leon upside the back of his head, causing him to stumble.

"Ow! What was that for?" Leon yelped.

"If you ever pat me on the butt again I will snap your arm you little creep!" Zoe hissed from between clenched teeth. The things she did for Finch and Reese!

"I was in character! It was part of the act!" Leon protested.

"Change your act before you get hurt!" Zoe shot back over her shoulder as she stormed off down the street, leaving Leon rubbing his head and grumbling about how no one ever appreciated or paid him.

* * *

"Mr. Finch, I think I have something here," Caleb finally took the earphones out of his ears.

Finch rolled his desk chair over to Caleb's workstation to see what his protégée had found. Reese and Fusco came over and stood behind them.

"It looks like the man you know as Alastair Wesley entered the United States over a month ago, under the name William Gibson." Caleb pulled security footage from LaGuardia Customs showing a man who appeared to be Wesley standing patiently in line.

John looked at the screen. "Yes that's him," he said his voice laced with quiet menace.

"Thought so," Caleb nodded with satisfaction. "After he cleared customs, he was picked up outside by this car." Caleb punched a button and the camera view switched to the passenger pick-up area outside the terminal and the men watched as Wesley climbed into the passenger seat of a mid-sized sedan. Caleb zeroed the focus onto the license plate. "Fusco had dispatch run the plate for me, it's a rental and it has a built in GPS unit."

"You hacked the GPS?" Harold asked.

"Yeah, it's not hard, but I'm guessing you already know that," Caleb replied with a smile. Harold smiled back at the teen. "Anyway, you will never guess the first place your guy visited?"

"Tell us," John whispered.

"Rikers," Caleb said smugly.

Fusco's eyes opened wide with shock and he let out a low whistle, "Wow, didn't see _that _coming."

Caleb shook his head, "Neither did I, so I double checked." Caleb brought up another window on the screen and they were looking at yet another security camera. John shuddered a bit when he recognized the entrance to the prison. They watched as Wesley walked in from the parking lot and entered the building.

"Who was he visiting?" Fusco asked, confused by this turn of events.

"Checking the Visitor's Database, he was visiting a guy by the name of Carl Elias, this time he used the name Peter Berke," Caleb responded. "The funny thing is, he didn't stay very long, according to his in and out times, he was in the visiting area for only about ten minutes."

Fusco shot a nervous glance over to Reese, "Wesley, working with Elias? That is so not good for us."

Reese shook his head, "I don't think they are working together. Wesley was only there for a few minutes. That's not enough time to do anything other than say 'No'."

Harold turned in his chair and looked up at John, "You think Elias turned Wesley down?"

John nodded coldly. "It's the only thing that would explain such a short visit. Wesley wanted something and Elias wouldn't, or couldn't, give it to him, so he had to go elsewhere. Caleb, where did Wesley go after he left Rikers?"

Caleb pulled up the information from the GPS, "4740 west 79th street."

Harold frowned, "That sounds familiar." And he rolled back over to his own workstation and typed furiously for a few seconds. "That's the address of the club that Mafia Don Luciano Grifoni uses as a base of operations."

John's lip curled in a snarl, "The only Mafia Don to survive Elias's murder spree."

Harold swiftly pulled up street camera footage from outside the Don's headquarters. The men watched as Wesley got out of the car and went inside. Harold sped up the footage and they quickly determined that Wesley had been inside for some time.

"So it appears the Don was more helpful than Elias," Harold said thoughtfully.

"But what did that Brit bastard want to begin with?" Fusco growled.

"We need that answer," John agreed. He growled in frustration and started pacing, "I need to get out of here. I need to be in the field! I can't save Joss sitting around here."

Fusco nodded in fierce agreement, "Yeah, we've sat around long enough."

"I have that covered gentlemen," Harold said calmly. "The solution to that particular problem will be here shortly."

There was nothing for John to do but wait. He hated waiting; he was a man of action. And when he waited his mind would wander off in dangerous directions...

John had done everything he could to avoid the day his relationship with Joss would be discovered and she would be used against him. He was extremely careful about being seen in public with her, and when they were together, their interactions were kept as business-like as possible. No kissing, no touching. (The only exception was the back booth at the Lyric and that was only because he knew that was hidden from sight and very private.) He didn't carry pictures of Joss or Taylor in his wallet, nor did he have any pictures of them on his phone. As far as all the people he helped knew, he was single with no romantic entanglements.

But somehow Wesley had figured it out. Somehow a man who lived in another country had blown into town and discovered in a matter of minutes that John loved Joss and would do anything for her. How had he found out? Who else knew about Joss and him?

Did it really matter? John realized that he had been so arrogant thinking he could actually protect her and keep her safe from his dark, treacherous world. John knew he was on a suicide mission from the day Finch had hired him and yet he dragged her along with him anyway. He had been too damn selfish to stay away from her and keep her safe. This was his fault and he didn't know how to fix it, or even if he could.

Harold and Lionel kept throwing nervous looks in John direction as he sat at the dinette table, chin in hands. They both knew him well enough to know from the expression on his face that he was thinking some very dark thoughts. They both knew if something didn't happen soon, Reese's anxiety over Joss would blow in an explosion that could make Mount St. Helens look like a mere hiccup.

John's dark reverie was interrupted by a knock on the door and again Harold answered it while John hovered protectively behind him with his gun at the ready. When John saw who was at the door, he nearly dropped his weapon. Staring back at him was him, or rather his twin. For a minute, John thought he was trapped in a Harpo Marx mirror gag.

Harold was looking like the canary that ate the cat. "John, meet Jim, He's an actor and a model. I've hired him to play you today."

Jim grinned at John and stuck out his hand for a handshake, "That's right, Mr. Finch has sent me tapes of you, your walk and your mannerisms. I've been studying them for months so I could imitate you."

Fusco kept looking back and forth between John and Jim like he was at a tennis match, "Well he certainly looks like John. But there is an awful lot at stake here…" he let his voice trail off but everyone else in the room knew he was thinking that if they got caught Joss was dead.

John continued to look Jim over critically, "I think it will work, Lionel. It not like we have to fool someone who knows me well, we just have to fool those two people downstairs who have never seen me before today."

Harold nodded, "That is correct Mr. Reese. Jim will dress in the spare suit you keep here and pretend to be you while you are out looking for Detective Carter. You will leave your compromised phone with him, and he will carry it around, letting Wesley track him. Should Wesley call, we will use the conferencing feature so you will do the talking while Jim pretends to talk. Jim will have to do some improvisational acting, but given the amount of time he has had to study your mannerisms and the fact that the people assigned to follow you are probably not that familiar with you, I believe this will work."

Jim ducked into the bedroom and emerged a few minutes later in John's spare suit and a white dress shirt. Jim's shoulders were slightly narrower than John's, but otherwise the suit and shirt fit him perfectly. John then changed into jeans and a leather motorcycle jacket, it would not be a good idea for the Man in the Suit to be spotted across town when he was supposed to be holed up in an apartment on the Upper East side.

John exited to the bedroom to find Jim showing pictures of his three adopted children to an appreciative Fusco. He noticed with approval that Jim had deliberately stood by the window while talking with Fusco, so Wesley's people could see him clearly. Good, Jim was smart. John felt a lot better about this deception.

Harold handed John a new burner phone, "All the usual apps have been loaded, plus if your phone rings, this phone will automatically be conferenced in so you can talk."

"Thanks, Finch. Now I just have to get out of here."

"Then I think it's time for Jim to make a deli run."

Jim grinned, "No problem." He strode across the living room, doing a perfect imitation of John's unique stride and left the apartment.

Fusco stationed himself by the window so he could see the street, but the people on the street would not be able to see him. "Wow that guy has your walk down pat, John!" Fusco exclaimed. "From here he's even fooling _me_!"

"So it's working? Wesley's guy is following him?"

"Yep, there he goes. The fake nanny is still there, but we should be able to sneak out the back."

"Thanks, Lionel. Finch, call me as soon as you find something. I'm going to see what Wesley wanted from Grifoni."

John set a baseball cap on his head, pulling it low down on his forehead and he and Lionel left the apartment. Cautiously they went down the back stairs and out the service entrance. Looking around they saw no one, the deception was working perfectly.

Fusco started walking in the direction of his car. "Taylor should be getting out of school in a few minutes, I'll go pick him up and get him and Joss's ma to one of the safe houses. Call me if you need me."

"Good luck, Lionel."

"You too, John."

After John and Lionel were gone, Harold turned to Caleb, "Let's get started mapping the GPS information from Wesley's car. We need to look for places he went over and over again, he's probably holding Joss in one of those places."

Caleb grinned back at his mentor, "No prob. Do you have a soda? I'm thirsty from a long day of committing cyber felonies."


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6 – Tracking Wesley**

Reese loitered across the street from Don Grifoni's headquarters, his hard and cold eyes on the front door, waiting for his chance. Finally he saw one of Grifoni's men leave the building. Reese and Finch had been keeping an eye on Grifoni's organization for quite some time since their cases frequently intersected with Grifoni's operations, and John recognized the man he was currently following as Augusto 'Auggie' Manetti, the youngest member of Grifoni's inner circle. Manetti was known to be vicious and not particularly bright. John moved swiftly and unseen after the unsuspecting Mafioso, his eyes never leaving his prey.

Manetti strutted down the street like he was the only rooster in the hen house. He worked for a powerful mob boss and he thought no one would dare challenge him. He was about to find out just how wrong he was.

Reese stalked his prey carefully. With his leather motorcycle jacket and jeans he easily blended into the crowd, but if anyone had looked into his steel blue eyes, they would have seen the predatory gleam. He was in operative mode and as deadly as a panther.

The Mafia lieutenant turned down an alley, taking a shortcut to the store where he was going to shakedown a shopkeeper for protection money. Normally a lieutenant of his standing wouldn't take on such a lowly job, but rumor had it that Manetti actually requested the opportunity to get out and "meet the neighbors" as he referred to it. The fact that those meetings often ended in either an ambulance or the coroner's office showing up was lost on no one. Manetti was quite enthusiastic about his work.

John followed, closing the distance rapidly. He entered the alley and saw Manetti about halfway down. The man glanced back over his shoulder and saw John coming after him with a determined look on his face. That was all that Manetti needed to see and he went for his gun. John went for his at the same time and of course as John was faster and better trained, the result was a foregone conclusion. Grifoni's man was down on the ground with a bullet in his leg before he could touch his weapon.

John walked up to the man as he writhed in pain on the ground. John loomed over the wounded man like a lion over it's prey. He smiled pleasantly down at the bleeding man on ground, "Hello, Auggie." He said in a soft, mocking voice, a voice that Lionel was well familiar with.

Manetti glared up at Reese, "Do you know who I am? You're a dead man!"

Reese smiled again, but it came out as more of snarl. While the corners of his mouth turned up, there was still death in his eyes. "I've been dead for a few years now; seems I'm very good at it." The menace in Reese's voice was unmistakable. Manetti was suddenly aware that he was in the presence of a man was no mere bully like himself, this man was walking death, and he shrank from Reese. Manetti had a sickening feeling the unknown man was not going to show him any mercy.

"What do you want?" Manetti asked, his voice betraying some of the panic that was beginning to clutch at his heart..

"About a month ago, a British man by the name of Alistair Wesley came to visit your boss. I want to know what they discussed."

"If I tell you Grifoni's business I'm a dead man."

"If you don't tell me, you're a dead man." The voice was soft, but there was no mistaking the fact that Reese meant every word and Manetti knew it. Reese aimed his gun at the terrified man's remaining good leg.

Manetti threw his arm over his head to protect himself whimpering "No! Please. Wesley wanted to know about the Man in the Suit. He said he had a project he was working on and he didn't want the Suit to fuck it up for him."

"What did Grifoni tell him?" John demanded softly, his gun still aimed at Manetti's good knee

Manetti was unable to take his terrified eyes off John's gun. "We don't know much. Don't know where the guy lives or what his name is. All Grifoni could tell him was that the Suit is sweet on some detective."

John closed his eyes slowly and opened them, his face an unreadable mask. The fact that Joss was special to him was now known to the Mafia and Wesley may not be the last person who would try to use Joss against him. His worst nightmare was coming true.

John gripped his gun harder, his knuckles going white. Grifoni had ratted Joss out to Wesley, despite the fact that she had risked her life to save his skin from Elias. John would settle the score with Grifoni later. On the outside John was still the deadly calm and in control operative, inside his anger was boiling over.

John glared down at the simpering Manetti, "Did Wesley say what his little project was exactly?"

The man shook his head, "No, Grifoni didn't ask."

John smiled the predatory smile down at the terrified man, "You have been very helpful, Auggie. Tell your boss hello for me." And John gave Manetti a condescending pat on the head as he stepped over him and walked away without a single glance back,

John left the alley and walked rapidly towards the storage building by the library that served as a garage for the Ducati and the rest of Finch's small fleet of vehicles. He strode into the building, then his steps faltered and he stopped just inside the doorway. He realized that he had no idea what to do next; he had no more leads to follow until Finch and Caleb finished tracing the movements of Wesley's car. He couldn't go out and run down any leads on his own, since he couldn't risk being seen. He had nothing to do but wait.

He sat down on the floor with his long legs stretched out in front of him and he leaned his head back against the wall. For probably the first time in his life he felt completely powerless. He stared at the Ducati, as it sat there quietly, leaning patiently on it's kickstand with his helmet sitting on the seat, almost mocking him. He knew it was gassed up and ready to go. He and Finch kept all of the vehicles in the fleet ready since they were often needed at a moment's notice, but he had nowhere to go.

He jumped a bit when his phone rang in the deadly quiet garage. He pulled it out of his pocket hoping it was Finch with news, but he saw that it rang because someone had called his other phone and activated the conferencing feature. Only one person would be calling that phone right now. John took a deep calming breath and answered the phone, his heart racing, silently praying that Wesley was not calling because he had somehow discovered the deception.

"Hello, John!" Wesley greeted him, John ground his teeth at the fake cheerfulness, but remained calm, he knew Wesley was doing it to throw him off and he would be damned if he was going to let Wesley win.

"Alistair," John said evenly.

"My operatives report that you have been a very good boy so far, John. I must say that I am surprised, I had expected you to be tearing New York apart by now."

Mentally, John sighed with relief. Wesley had not discovered the deception, this was a fishing call.

"Well, Alistair, you have Detective Carter. You know I won't do anything to endanger her. Isn't that why you took her in the first place?"

"I just didn't expect you to roll over and show your belly, John. You didn't strike me as that kind of man." _So that's your game,_ John thought. _You know I wouldn't sit just around and it's driving you nuts that you can't figure out what I'm doing._

John kept his voice soft, letting himself sound defeated and frustrated, "You hold the trump card, just get your little project done and return Carter to me."

"Oh, I fully intend to. Just keep behaving yourself. Cheers." Wesley said coldy and hung up. John breathed a sigh of relief; he must have convinced Wesley that he had the upper hand. The thing that upset John was that Wesley truly did have the upper hand as long as he had Joss captive.

John's heart ached in his chest painfully. He couldn't lose Joss, he couldn't face another loss of someone he cared about. He was supposed to protect her, take care of her, and instead she was in danger _because_ of him. The irony that she was in the clutches of another monster just like him had not escaped John. Internally he kicked himself for being foolish enough to think that a killer like him could actually find redemption and love.

He heard Kara Stanton's voice instead his head, "You're the dark, John. You're not even human anymore. You can't go back, not after everything you've done."

He should have listened to Kara. He should have stayed away from Joss, he shouldn't have touched her with his filthy, blood-soaked hands. He had dragged her into a dark and deadly world that she was unprepared for. She was smart and she was one of the best cops in the city of New York, but she wasn't ready to go up against Alistair Wesley with his MI-6 training and experience. But John, in his arrogance, thought he could protect her from all that and now the universe had issued him a cosmic smack down of epic proportions.

He should have learned his lesson after Rikers, after Donnelly arrested them and almost ruined Joss's life. He had tried to stay away from her after that, to treat her as an asset, not as a friend. He stayed away to give her chance to build a relationship with Detective Beecher while he desperately tried to convince himself that Beecher was good for her. But she had already owned his heart and he was too weak to resist; once Beecher was killed, he couldn't stay away any longer. He had reached out to her and, to his amazement, had discovered that she loved him too.

John stared bleakly at the Ducati again. Like a Thoroughbred stuck at the starting gate, John was clomping at the bit to GO. He wanted to go get his love and hold her tight against him again. He needed her, and today he was finding out just how much.

John pulled his legs up, wrapped his arms around them and rested his forehead on his knees. Joss was the center of his world and not having her in his life would destroy him. He had desperately wanted to show her that she was justified in thinking he was a good man, so he tried to be that man. He thought he forgotten how but as time went on, it gradually became more and more natural to him. She and Finch had showed him a different path and his soul had gradually emerged from the dark, blinking in the light of her smile.

He smiled a bit when he heard Joss's voice inside his head, quite clearly, chewing his ass out the way she always did when he got broody, "Stop it, John! I made my choice like a damned adult. You're a good man!"

John thought back to the previous Sunday afternoon, a rare weekend day off for him and Joss both, that they had spent snuggled on the couch in her apartment. They had been flipping through the list of movies available on demand on Joss's cable system when the movie _Nightmare on Elm Street_ came up on the list. Reese had vehemently rejected it, saying he didn't like watching movies that had violence against kids. Joss had reached up and kissed him, "You're a good man John Reese," she had said.

"No Joss, I'm not a good man, not without you," he said softly.

* * *

Caleb stood over Finch, watching as Finch plotted the course of Wesley's car over a street map of New York.

"He changed rental cars every few days, but each car shows the same pattern. See, right there?" Caleb pointed to a spot in the warehouse district. "He has gone there every day since he's been in New York."

"Yes, I see," Finch said. "And he has made numerous visits to this block here." Finch tapped his finger in a spot in a blighted commercial district. "Whatever he is doing in New York must be connected to those places."

Finch looked up at Caleb, grinning like a proud papa, "Good job Caleb. You may have just cracked this case wide open."

Caleb scratched the back of his neck and gave Finch a lop-sided grin in return, "Man, what a rush! I thought nothing could ever compare to selling my program for millions, but compared to saving a life that's minor. You guys really do this all the time?"

"Yes," Finch said. "This project has been eye opening, to say the least."

Finch picked up the untraceable burner phone and called John. "John, we have something. Caleb plotted the data for the past month from the GPS in Wesley's cars and there are two places he consistently visited. One is a warehouse, the other is on a block in a commercial district that has seen better days."

"Sounds like a couple of perfect places to hold a hostage and conduct other criminal business," John growled. "Send me the addresses."

"We don't have an exact address for the location in the commercial district; we just know the block where he consistently parked."

John grimaced in frustration, "Send me the information you have. Call Fusco and have him meet me at the warehouse. I'll start there."

John leaped up and strode to the Ducati with grim determination. It was time to go get his Joss back.


	7. Chapter 7

**Hey everyone, thanks again for all the wonderful reviews you have been leaving! I have tried to respond to everyone who has a FF account. To all the guests whom I can not message, Thank you! I'm glad everyone is enjoying this story so much.**

* * *

**Chapter 7 – Wesley's Lair**

John parked the Ducati several blocks from the warehouse and slowly approached the building, every sense on high alert. John flattened his back against the wall and slowly he inched his way along, gun drawn. He felt the deadly calm he always did in these situations. He was in hunter mode, hunting the most deadly prey of all, hunting his British doppelganger.

However, it soon became apparent that no one was around, the warehouse completely deserted. John returned his gun to his waistband, beating back the disappointment that Joss was not here. He decided to search the warehouse in case there was anything there that would indicate what Wesley was planning for his "project", or where Joss was being held.

Fusco's car pulled up a few minutes later and Fusco got out of the car.

"Taylor's safe?" John asked.

"Yeah, I got him and Joss's mom stashed in a safe house. You should have seen Alice's face light up when she saw the kitchen. Once this case is over, we're gonna eat so good!"

John allowed himself a brief, small smile. Alice loved to feed people and cooking calmed her nerves. The stress of having her only daughter in danger again, combined with the high end kitchen at the safe house, meant Fusco was probably right. John really could use a slice of her chocolate cake right then.

But first he had to save Joss.

"We need to get in there and look around," John indicated an open window.

Fusco looked at the window a good eight feet off the ground and then looked over at John with one eyebrow raised. "Sorry pal, you know I'd take a bullet for Carter, but there is no way **this** body is going in through **that** window."

John glared at Fusco. "You need to lose weight, Lionel."

"If I did that then I would have to do dumb things like climb through warehouse windows that are eight feet off the ground," the detective shot back.

John rolled his eyes then leaped up and grabbed the bottom of the open window. He pulled himself up and slipped inside, dropping the short distance to the floor of the warehouse as gracefully as a cat. He paused where he landed, still in his crouch, listening, but he didn't even hear one of NYC's infamous rats moving around. Cautiously he stood up and looked around.

It was a typical warehouse; concrete floor, wide open space. It was completely empty except for a large square object the size of a small room covered with a heavy black tarp in the middle of the floor. John walked over and opened the door of the warehouse for Fusco.

Fusco took one look at the tarp in the center of the warehouse, "What the hell is that?"

"Let's find out." John walked over and lifted the tarp. He took a small flashlight out of his pocket and shined it at whatever was under there while Fusco looked around him.

It looked like a mockup of a room, correction a vault. John stepped forward and was startled to see a light come on in the dark area under the tarp. Looking around he noticed several security measures such as motion, heat and light sensors and magnetic plates on the door. He had stepped on a pressure plate on the floor, which is why the light had come on. Suddenly he realized what he was probably looking at. He pulled out the burner phone and called Zoe.

"Zoe, did you manage to get into the vault at the diamond exchange?"

"Hello to you too, John," Zoe purred in her smoky voice. "No, we didn't. Goldberg informed us that only members of the Diamond Exchange were allowed into the vault and even members had to be accompanied by a security guard at all times. He bragged extensively about the security measures inside though."

"Don't tell me, let me guess; cameras, motion, light and heat detectors. Magnetic sensor on the door, pressure plates in the floor."

"Yes, he mentioned all those. It sounded like a mini Fort Knox if you ask me."

"Thanks, Zoe." John disconnected the call.

"So what's the deal?" Fusco asked, perplexed

"This is a replica of the vault in the Diamond Exchange. Wesley and his men have been using this to practice neutralizing the security measures and breaking into the vault. Anytime someone slipped up, the light would turn on to alert them they failed the practice run. They have been practicing in here all day, every day, for the past month.

"However, since the Diamond Exchange doesn't allow visitors inside the vault, they needed an inside man in order to get information and probably pictures of the various security measures…"

"..And Goldberg 's their inside man," Fusco finished.

"The questions is, is he cooperating voluntarily or because Wesley threatened him or his family?" John asked.

Fusco made what Joss called his "grumpy face", "Good question. And we gotta figure it fast, for Carter's sake."

* * *

Late Friday afternoon, just before it was time to go home for the weekend, Isaac Goldberg stepped through the door of the vault in the Diamond Exchange. He had noticed on previous visits that the guards were sloppy late on Friday afternoons, and today was no exception. The guard let him into the vault, but did not actually enter the vault with him as the security protocol required. The lazy ass preferred to lounge in a chair outside in the hallway. After all, Isaac had been a member in good standing of the Diamond Exchange for nearly thirty years, he was well-known and respected. There was no reason to watch him, was there?

Goldberg swiftly removed a can of hairspray from his satchel and sprayed a thick coat on the motion sensor by the door. He returned the can to his satchel and then opened up his safe deposit box. He removed his entire stock of cut and uncut diamonds and placed them in his bag. The whole operation only took a couple of minutes, much to the relief of the bored guard.

Goldberg stepped out of the vault. "Good night, Monty," he said cheerfully, just like he had a thousand times before.

The guard yawned and stretched as he got up from the chair. "Have a good weekend, Mr. Goldberg."

Goldberg smiled and thought _Oh Monty, you have no idea!_

* * *

The man Joss knew as Douglas opened the door to the room with the cage and walked over to the fencing, just like he had been doing at regular intervals all day. Usually he would check to see if Joss was still in the cage and the gate was still securely locked. He would check the fencing to be sure Joss had not been able to unscrew any bolts or compromise the fencing in any way. Then he would walk out the door without a single word to his prisoner. Joss got the impression that Douglas was not happy with his assignment and thought that guarding a somewhat petite woman was beneath him.

This time, instead of just verifying that Joss was still safely locked up and then leaving, Douglas stood and stared at her.

Joss had been lying on her back on the cot, staring up at the ceiling, trying to formulate a new escape plan. She tried to ignore the man, but her nerves were on edge and she finally sat up and snapped, "Take a picture, it lasts longer."

Douglas's mouth twitched a little, "That's not very original."

Joss fixed Douglas with a steely eyed glare that John was very familiar with. "If you wanted entertainment, you should have grabbed a comedian instead of a cop."

"I'm just trying to figure out what makes you so special. If Alistair Wesley is so respectful of your boy Reese, he must be very, very good."

"He is. He's the best." Joss crossed her arms and glared at her captor.

Douglas looked Joss up and down. All he could see was inexpensive clothes, serviceable, comfortable shoes and a woman with little makeup and hair carelessly tied back in a low ponytail. "So if he's so damn special, why are _you_ so important to him? You don't look all that special to me."

Joss arched an eyebrow at her captor, "Well, I guess you will just have to ask John when you see him."

"I don't plan on seeing him."

"That's the thing about John, he has a history of popping up when people don't expect him," Joss informed him smugly. She knew John would come for her and she was looking forward to seeing him give this guy a good beat down when he did.

"If he pops up here, I get to kill you; think about that," Douglas called over his shoulder as he turned and left the room.

"Yeah, well good luck with that," Joss snapped to Douglas's retreating back. There was no doubt in her mind that the sick bastard was hoping he'd get to kill her. Doulas probably enjoyed killing. Joss was pretty sure he did it often enough.

Joss returned to trying to think of another way out. Wesley had made sure the bolts holding the cage in place were tightened down so tightly that she no hope of loosening any of them without tools. She had tried each and every one.

So that left the lock on the gate. But how was she going to pick it? Wesley had obviously thought of this scenario and the cage was clean of anything she could use. They had removed everything from her pockets before they had placed her in the cage, and none of the items in the cage had parts she could use.

She sat there for a while turning the problem over and over in head and suddenly a slow smile spread across her face. She realized that she did have something on her that she could use. Something the men had completely missed.

After that first shopping trip with John when Elsa Vasquez had tried to kill her*, John had arranged a line of credit for Joss at the expensive boutique around the corner from his loft. Basically Joss could buy anything she wanted and John would pay for it. Joss not had used it much at first because, as she had explained to John, "I'm a cop. I can't wear expensive clothes to work! IAB will think I'm on the take if I start wearing blouses that cost more than I make in a day!"

But John had looked hurt. Finch was a very generous employer and John had very few expenses; he could well afford to buy her designer outfits and he enjoyed seeing her look her best. Joss compromised by buying a few outfits she could wear on weekends, a couple of dresses for date nights and underwear, lots of expensive underwear that only John saw. It was not unusual for Joss to go work wearing a bra and matching panties that cost more than the suit she was wearing. This compromise had pleased John to no end. Whenever he could get her alone, like some naughty boy, he would playfully peep down her top to see which bra she was wearing. She would laugh and swat him away while he grinned a devilish grin at her.

But the expensive bras had one big problem; they set off the metal detectors at Riker's and the courthouse, because they used real wire for the underwire. If she had to visit a suspect, or testify in court, she had to be sure to wear an older, less expensive bra, one with plastic underwire. She had started keeping one of the old bras stashed in her desk as a contingency. John had gotten a good laugh out of that.

Today she was wearing one of the high end bras.

She hid behind the privacy tarp that shielded the toilet from view, unbuttoned her top and removed her bra. Swiftly she used her teeth tear the side of the bra and she removed the wire from both cups. She got dressed again and scurried back to the cot to wait for Douglas to do one of his check-ups on her before she started working on the lock. She wanted as much time as she could get.

* * *

***Joss's shopping trip with John was detailed in my previous story Get Carter Again.**


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8 – Escape**

John and Lionel left the warehouse, driving in the direction of the block in the commercial district that Wesley had visited several times over the course of his stay in New York. John was on the Ducati and Lionel was following him in the cruiser. A few blocks from their destination they ran into an accident that completely blocked the street. John was able to get around it easily enough on the bike but Lionel got left behind in his car, hopelessly stuck in the traffic jam the accident had created. No telling how long Lionel would be caught in traffic; John would have to go it alone.

John pulled up to the block where Wesley had parked so many times over the past weeks, paused, and looked around. The recession had been tough on this area. Several years ago it had consisted of many small mom and pop businesses, but today about half the storefronts were empty and advertised that they were for lease. The stores that were not empty had, for the most part, closed for the night. John watched a piece of paper blow forlornly down the street; the area was almost completely deserted this time on a Friday night.

John really wished Fusco had been able to follow him. Having another pair of eyes would come in real handy in determining where Joss was being held. He drove slowly down the street, pretending to look for an address. One storefront drew his attention; it had paper over the windows and a shiny brand new lock on the front door.

John drove to the end of the block and parked. He knew where Joss was and he was going to go get her.

* * *

Joss had made short work of the padlock holding the gate to her prison closed. As soon as the lock popped open she held her breath, listening intently for any movement from the next room. She heard nothing. A quick check of her watch told her it had been about five minutes since the last time Douglas had checked on her. She only had about ten to fifteen minutes, maybe twenty if she was lucky, before he came back again.

Silently she moved over to the chair and carried it over to the window, setting it down under the window without a sound. She scrambled up onto the chair and began picking at the paint around the window's handle with one of the wires she used for lock picking. She kept throwing nervous glances back at the door every few seconds; she was fully aware that if that sick bastard Douglas caught her trying to escape again, he might ignore Wesley's orders and kill her on the spot, or at least beat her up good.

She was so nervous she had to pause briefly to wipe the sweat out of her eyes and she was breathing hard from the stress. This was her last chance to get out of there. "Come on, come ON!" she hissed impatiently at the stubborn paint as she slowly peeled it away from the handle. She swore she could hear her watch ticking away the seconds as she worked.

After several precious minutes had ticked away she was finally able clear away enough paint to turn the handle. The window made a loud screeching sound as she cranked it open and her heart dropped. But it appeared that the men in the next room didn't hear it, because no one came running. Breathing a sigh of relief, Joss pulled herself up and out the window. She dangled for a moment from the windowsill and then let herself drop the few feet to the ground. Then she took off running down the alley as fast as she could go. Checking her watch, she realized she probably had only a couple of minutes before Douglas would discover her missing. She intended to be very far away when that happened.

Once she reached the street, she paused for a second to get her bearings. To her surprise, just down the street she saw a familiar figure stepping off his motorcycle. John had found her, somehow. Well, OK, more likely Finch had found her and sent John, but she wasn't complaining. She knew without a doubt that her ordeal in captivity was over now.

With a big smile of relief on her face, she walked over to John. He was standing with his back to her while he took his helmet off and didn't see her approach. She tapped him on the shoulder, "Excuse me, but could a girl trouble you for a ride?"

John whipped around, his eyes as wide as saucers and his mouth was hanging open in shock. "JOSS?"

She giggled, she didn't get to see John surprised very often, "Hi. About time you showed up."

John answered her smile with one of his own, "Sorry, I'm late."

After seeing that handsome smile on John's face, Joss couldn't resist any longer. She launched herself into her lover's arms and squeezed him as hard as she could. He squeezed back just as hard while he rained kisses down on her head. Joss buried her face in his shoulder, inhaling his masculine scent and reveled in the joy of being safely in John's arms again. John held her so tight she had trouble breathing while he rested his cheek on top of her head, slowly letting the anger he had felt all day leach out of him.

"So much for rescuing you," John said wryly as he lovingly stroked her hair.

"If you wanted to rescue me, you shouldn't have taught me to pick locks. I suck at being a damsel in distress," she said without lifting her head from his shoulder.

John looked down the street and saw two men come out of the storefront and look down the street. When the men spied John and Joss they started running in their direction and drawing their guns.

"Joss, are those two men…?"

Joss glanced down the street, "Yep."

Keeping one arm around Joss and holding her tight to his body, John used his other hand to draw the gun he kept tucked in his waistband at the small of his back and neatly knee-capped each man with two rapid shots while they were still half a block away. They went down hard, screaming in pain.

He looked at Joss, his face hard, "Which one hit you? Which one gave you this?" and he touched the bruise on the side of her face.

"John, there's no need to…"

John interrupted her by placing his finger under her chin and forcing her to look at him, his blue eyes almost black with fury. "Which one hurt you, Joss?" John demanded his soft voice angry.

"The blonde guy. But you don't need to…"

John lifted his gun once more and shot Douglas again, this time in the shoulder. "Yes, I did need to," John said firmly.

Joss wisely decided not to press the point, she was just grateful that John didn't kill him outright. Besides, they had a case to work; she was far from done with Mr. Alistair Wesley.

"John, Wesley said he had another business deal going down, do you what he was talking about?"

"Our latest number was a diamond dealer. We think he might be robbing the Diamond Exchange vault tonight," John told her as he returned his gun to his waist band.

"Then I think we had better get moving. I've got a bone to pick with Mr. Wesley," Joss snapped.

John's soft mouth found hers and he kissed her passionately. "That's my girl," he said. He tapped his earpiece, "Finch, Fusco, I have Joss. She's fine. We're going after Wesley at the Diamond Exchange. Lionel, I need you to go to Goldberg's house and make sure Mrs. Goldberg is safe."

"On it," Fusco responded and cut the connection. He had finally managed to extract himself from the traffic jam and he jammed on his accelerator. He let a whoop of delight and hit the steering wheel. His partner was safe and it was time to catch some bad guys.

* * *

Over at the apartment, Finch leaned back in his seat and blew out a long breath, took his glasses off, and rubbed the bridge of his nose. Joss was safe, whatever else happened this night, he would not lose his friends. He would not have to tell young Taylor that his mother was not coming home and John was not going to self-destruct out of guilt and grief. The mission to save the numbers would continue with a fully intact team. Finch felt a huge weight lift off his shoulders and it was all he could to do to keep from giggling like a fool.

Caleb looked over at Finch, "The lady is safe?"

Finch smiled, "Yes, she's fine. Everything is just fine." Caleb did a fist pump and let out a triumphant, "Yes!" Then he and Finch went back to monitoring Wesley.

* * *

John handed Joss his extra helmet, her phone and an earpiece. Joss inserted the earpiece, put on her helmet and they climbed onto the motorcycle. Joss mounted the bike and wrapped her arms around John's waist . John paused for a second and closed his eyes while he laid his hand over hers where they rested on his stomach, while Joss held him tight and rested her helmeted head against his back between his shoulder blades. They sat like that for a few seconds, then John started the bike and they roared off down the street.

* * *

Fusco drove down the quiet residential street where the Goldbergs lived. It was an upscale neighborhood with a lot of distance between houses. To the experienced cop, it looked like the kind of neighborhood where crooks could execute a home invasion and no one would hear a thing. And no one would think such an awful thing could happen on this quiet, complacent tree lined street, so the neighbors wouldn't exactly have their eyes open, looking for unusual activity. This was the kind of neighborhood where when something bad _did_ happen, the evening news would be filled with dazed neighbors declaring that they never thought anything like this could happen_ here_. Fusco had a bad feeling about this, honed by many years on the force.

The feeling got worse when he spied a van for one of those satellite dish services parked just a few doors down from the Goldberg's home. It was far too late for a house call by legitimate technicians.

Fusco drove around the block and parked. He grabbed his binoculars and ducked into a stand of bushes on the corner that gave him a view of the van. He focused on the van and saw two bored looking guys sitting in the driver and passenger seats while they stared at the Goldberg house. He couldn't see anyone else in the back of the van, but he also couldn't see well enough to be positive it was just the two of them.

Fusco noticed a car pulling up to the Goldberg house. He turned his attention to the vehicle and saw a well-dressed middle aged woman whom he assumed to be Mrs. Goldberg, get out of the car and go inside. Fusco was able to watch Mrs. Goldberg's progress through the house as lights turned on in various rooms. Mrs. Goldberg was home from Friday evening Temple.

Fusco tapped his earpiece, "Guys, it looks there is a van here with at least two guys staking out the Goldberg house."

"Are they doing anything other than watching?" John asked.

"No, they're just sitting there."

"Keep an eye on them, they must be waiting for a signal from Wesley. Can you see if Goldberg is home?"

"The Mrs. just got home; I didn't see the Mister or either one of the daughters. I'm pretty sure she's alone in the house."

John frowned beneath his helmet. He wanted go to the Diamond Exchange and confront Wesley for taking Joss, but Mrs. Goldberg was most definitely in danger and he was beginning to think Mr. Goldberg was cooperating with the robbery. He growled deep in his throat, the confrontation with Wesley was going to have to wait and he and Joss would have to change course and go help Lionel. Silently Reese promised Wesley that they would have that confrontation, sooner rather than later.

He turned the Ducati in the direction of the Goldberg home, "Joss and I are on our way, Lionel."


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9 – the Robbery Begins**

Isaac Goldberg approached the back door of the Diamond Exchange cautiously. The adrenaline was flowing freely through his veins, but he managed to remain calm. This was the most exciting night of his rather dull existence. By the end of the night, he would be rich and he would be free.

"Ready?" he said into this Bluetooth.

"Ready," Alastair Wesley's voice replied tersely.

The guards monitoring the security cameras saw the familiar figure of Isaac Goldberg approach the door; but they don't notice the slight hiccup in the feed when he reached the door. He pushed the button to be admitted.

The guard pushed intercom button, "You forget something, Mr. Goldberg?" he asked jovially.

"Yeah, I'm getting forgetful in my old age," Goldberg joked back as he opened the door.

The guards watching from the control room saw Isaac Goldberg enter the building on their video feed. Actually, Goldberg entered along with Alastair Wesley and several other men, what the guards were seeing was video recorded from several weeks ago.

The band of men moved rapidly to the entrance to the basement, while all the video cameras showed nothing but empty hallways.

They walked down the dark hallway to the vault using only the smallest pen light to see by. At the vault door, their first task was to neutralize the contact plate on the door. The plate touched a similar plate on the wall, and when door opened, contact between the plates was lost, breaking the electrical current and causing an alarm to sound in the guard's control room.

One of the men swiftly taped the plate on the door to the plate on the wall. He then unscrewed the plate from the vault door, so when they opened the door, the door plate would not move and remain in contact with the wall plate, allowing them to open the door without the breaking the current and alerting the guards.

Their next obstacle was to actually open the vault door. This was a two-step process that required both a combination that was changed weekly and a key. Several weeks ago, Wesley had hacked the security cameras so Goldberg could smuggle him into the building after hours and plant a small but high resolution camera in the ceiling over the vault door. Wesley stepped forward and swiftly dialed the combination that they had recorded from that camera. Once he had the combination dialed in, he nodded to one of men, and the man retrieved the key from its hiding place in the utility closet only a few feet from the vault door. The guards were supposed to keep the key in the locked control room and only bring it down to the basement when someone wanted to access the vault, but after they had forgotten it a few times and had to walk back up the stairs to return to the control center to retrieve it, they found that it was easier to keep it in the closet where it was handy. After all with all the other high-tech security measures in place, who would have thought that this one small detail would be that important?

Wesley smiled a predatory smile. He knew from his activities during and after his stint in MI-6 that it was always the human factor that was the weak link in any operation. Take Mr. Goldberg for example. His insider information was the key to pulling off a theft of this magnitude. As a trusted, long standing member of the Diamond Exchange, Goldberg had the inside access needed to pull off this delicate and complex robbery. He knew all the security protocols and he knew which security protocols the guards ignored. He had also smuggled a small camera hidden in a pen in his shirt pocket into the vault and taken the pictures they needed to build the model of the vault that they had practiced so diligently on.

Goldberg was the key to the whole plan, and all he wanted in return was that they kill his wife so he could avoid a messy divorce and marry his mistress.

**One year ago**

Isaac Goldberg sat across from Alastair Wesley at The Grand restaurant. He did love a good steak and this place was one of the best.

Wesley took a sip of his drink, an excellent scotch. He looked evenly at the eager man sitting on the other side of the table from him. "One hundred million dollars, you say?"

Goldberg smiled smugly, "I thought that would get your attention." He took a sip from his glass of wine.

Wesley waved his hand, "You have my complete attention, Mr. Goldberg. Please continue."

"On any given weekend, there is at least one hundred million dollars' worth of cut and uncut diamonds in the vault at the Diamond Exchange where I have my office."

Wesley swirled his scotch around in his glass, inhaling the marvelous scent while he spoke. "I would imagine that getting into that vault would not be a trivial matter."

"No, but I have researched you very carefully Mr. Wesley. I hear you are quite resourceful and you know many useful people."

Wesley inclined his head modestly, "I do my best under rather difficult circumstances."

Goldberg's eyes were shining, he had Wesley on the hook and he knew it. "That's why I approached you with this little proposal."

Wesley smiled a rather reptilian smile, "I'm flattered you chose me. But before we take this little discussion further, what do you want? I've researched you as well, Mr. Goldberg. Your business is doing quite well; you are well respected in the community. You don't strike me as the larcenous type."

Wesley noticed Goldberg's hand tighten on his wine glass and the diamond dealer set down the glass very carefully, as if he didn't trust himself with it. Wesley leaned forward, more interested than ever to hear the response to his question.

"I want two things. To retire from the diamond business and to be rid of my wife. I never really wanted to be a diamond dealer, but I was a good son and obeyed my father when he told me I would take over for him. I can't complain too much, the business has been good to me, but I'm tired of haggling for a living. I never enjoyed it. I'm tired of conducting my business in vaults with six foot concrete walls and stuffy secure offices that give me a headache.

"I want to travel. I want to walk in the Holy Land. I want to take pictures of elephants on Serengeti and I want touch the Parthenon. I want to be a man of the world."

Internally, Wesley rolled his eyes. _Spare me from middle aged men who wax poetic about their mid-life crisis_, he thought. But he could see his dinner partners' discontent in his eyes and hear it in his voice. Thirty years was a long time to spend doing something you didn't like doing. 100 million dollars was a lot of money, so Wesley swallowed his contempt and listened carefully.

"Right before we break into the vault I will remove all my stock but the insurance company will not know that. I can sell my diamonds on the black market at the same time I'll file a claim for it. That should leave me with several million dollars. Not only can I retire and travel, I can travel first class. Everything else in the vault will be yours and your men's."

Wesley raised an eyebrow, "A most generous offer. What about your second wish?"

Goldberg looked up at Wesley and Wesley almost gasped at the hate he saw blazing in the man's eyes. "I know you know plenty of assassins. I want my wife dead," he spat out.

"I have fallen in love, Mr. Wesley, for the first time in my life. She shares my passion for travel and she is a loving, caring woman, unlike my wife. My wife refuses to travel and keeps me on a very short leash. She knows I am in love with another woman, yet she refuses to give me a divorce. She threatens to ruin me with a long, drawn out fight in court and the bitch will do it just to spite me. She doesn't want to lose her position in the community or her expensive house. If it take that from her, she says, she will take my dreams away from me. I made her a very generous divorce offer, but she won't take it.

"She is also slowly turning my daughters against me with her martyr act. I was willing to fight her in court, but I will not lose my daughters."

"So you want me to kill her for you?"

Goldberg smiled a feral smile, "Yes, as part of my, shall we say, finder's fee."

Wesley paused thoughtfully, "That should be easy enough. We could make it look like we killed her as an example to you, to secure your cooperation in the robbery. You could play the grieving husband and after a decent amount of time has passed, marry your beloved."

Goldberg smiled with delight, "Perfect, I knew you were the right man."

"Oh I am, Mr. Goldberg. May I call you Isaac?"

"Of course, Alistair. I think we are going to be very good friends."

**Present day**

Wesley shook his head, they were about to pull off one of the biggest diamond heists in history because one single man had the mother of all mid-life crisis. Wesley had to smile, the irony appealed to his wicked sense of humor.

The man holding the pen light switched it off and the door to the vault slid open without even a whisper. This was where months of planning followed by a solid month of repetitive practice would either pay off or sink them. Each man had performed his assigned task many, many times in the mock up vault in the warehouse. Even though they would have to perform their tasks in the pitch blackness of the vault, each one knew exactly how many steps to their target and just how far they had to jump to make it over the pressure plate under the floor at the entrance into the vault.

If any of the men didn't jump far enough to clear the pressure plate, or if the hairspray that Goldberg had sprayed on the motion detector earlier didn't block the sensor well enough or long enough, the guards in the control room would be alerted and things would get messy quickly. Wesley did not like messy, he had quite a few scars from messy operations and he did not want to add to his collection, thank you very much.

But all the practice paid off. The first man jumped far enough to completely clear the pressure plate. He walked straight over to the motion sensor and quickly taped a box over it, completely neutralizing it. The hairspray held long enough. "Done," the man said, indicating it was safe for the rest of the men to enter.

Wesley leaped into the vault, walked over to the security camera, carefully counting his steps in the dark, and sprayed the lens with a thick coat of black paint. Since the lights were supposed to be off in the vault all weekend, the guards would not notice the blacked out camera. All they were expecting to see all weekend from the vault camera was blackness anyway.

While Wesley was disabling the security camera, the third and fourth men followed him swiftly into the vault and began splicing the wiring for the electronics in the vault. Their job was to set up a feedback loop so that monitors in the control room would register everything in the vault as normal despite the fact the electronics had been compromised. If these men did their jobs correctly, the light sensors and the pressure plate would not be able to send alarms to the control room. The thieves could then turn on the lights and step on the pressure plate without having to worry about alerting the guards or the police. Wesley froze in place, waiting patiently for a signal from his men.

After a couple of minutes, Wesley heard the words he was waiting to hear, "Done." The other man working on the wiring also said, "Done" a minute later. Wesley took a deep breath and flipped the light switch.

The vault was flooded with light and the gang blinked rapidly in the sudden brightness. They quickly drew their guns and assumed defensive postures; waiting to see if the guards would come running. After several minutes it became apparent that the splices had worked and the guards were still in their control room, blissfully unaware that their security measures had been breached.

Wesley allowed himself a broad grin. He turned to his men, "Let's get to it."

One man opened a bag and produced a couple of drills. With Goldberg directing them to the boxes of the bigger dealers in the building, they drilled the lock on the first safe deposit box. They pulled the box out and opened it.

None of men could hold back the gasp as they saw all the diamonds glittering up at them. It was a dazzling sight and the men were momentarily speechless. Then one thumped Goldberg on the back, "Good job, mate!" he crowed to the diamond dealer. Goldberg gave the men a sheepish grin; he wasn't used to being the hero.

Wesley wiped the grin off his face and resumed his business-like demeanor, "Alright boys, the diamonds aren't going to get themselves out of those boxes. Let's get to work, we can celebrate later."

* * *

"Mr. Reese?" Finch's voice came over the earpiece.

"I'm here Finch."

"The robbery of the Diamond Exchange has begun. The camera Miss Morgan planted just outside the vault has been activated. Wesley and his men have just opened the vault and they managed to do so without triggering any alarms that I can detect. It appears that the Diamond Exchange guards and the police are none the wiser. Should I trigger an alarm?"

"No, if I know Wesley, he is prepared to fight his way out if he has to and he'll kill a lot of people. Keep an eye on them, Finch. We have to save Mrs. Goldberg first, and then we will deal with Wesley and his crew."

"Understood. I have it covered."

Caleb nibbled his thumbnail and looked at Finch with a worried expression. "Do you think they'll make it in time? It looks like the thieves are moving awfully fast. Look how efficient these guys are!" Caleb pointed to the monitor showing the feed from the camera in the hallway. Through the door of the vault Finch could clearly see that the gang had already opened a couple of the larger boxes and dumped their contents into duffel bags.

Finch shrugged, "I don't know, but Mr. Reese is correct in that human life must take precedence over property crimes. Even if they don't make it in time to stop them at the Diamond Exchange, we can still track them and Mr. Reese and the Detectives can intercept them later."

* * *

Leon Tao tentatively approached the cars parked just out of range of the security camera outside the back entrance of the Diamond Exchange. Looking around carefully he saw he was alone on the street. Late Friday night in the Diamond District was dead. He quickly planted the tracking devices Finch had given him on each car and retreated to his own vehicle down the street to wait.

* * *

John and Joss raced along on the bike heading for the Goldberg house. From what Finch had seen on the video feed from the camera the Zoe had planted just outside the vault, they now knew that Goldberg was cooperating voluntarily with Wesley. This meant that the men in the phony satellite truck could be there for only one reason, to kill Mrs. Goldberg. Fusco was on scene and watching the men, but there were two of them and only one of him. Not to mention that if they were working with Wesley, they were probably highly skilled professionals. Fusco was a surprisingly good cop, but he was not in their league.

Fusco remained in the bushes watching the hired guns. They kept checking their watches as if they were waiting for a certain time to make their move. Fusco could only hope that it would not be before John and Joss could join him.

Fusco took another look through his binoculars and growled in frustration; the men were starting to get out of the van. He was out of time.

"John, Joss how far away are you? The van guys are making their move."

John swore, "We're still several minutes away. Lionel, it's up to you."

"Swell, me versus two trained assassins, what could go wrong?" Lionel grumbled.

Fusco backed out of the bushes and carefully made his way around the corner. It would not do if the men saw him crawling out of the foliage. Once he was safely back on the sidewalk, he began rapidly walking in the direction of the men.

The side door of the van was open and the assassins were getting toolboxes out of the vehicle when Fusco reached them. Fusco saw a brief glimpse of a large caliber handgun as one of the phony technicians took it out of a toolbox, checked it quickly and put it back.

"Hey guys!" he called out to them. They stopped what they were doing and looked at him, but visibly relaxed when they saw the pudgy 'everyman' that was heading in their direction; they obviously did not think he was any threat.

"Can we help you?" one of the men growled as he slammed shut the tool box that contained the gun. Fusco pretended not to notice.

Fusco was able to walk right up to the men. "Yeah, hi. Either one of youse guys seen a Chihuahua around? I lost my little dog and…" Fusco bent over with his hand out showing them how small the nonexistent dog was when he swiftly pulled his weapon from behind his back and put a bullet in each mans' leg at near point blank range before they had a chance to react.

The men grabbed their legs and went down screaming in pain. They were completely unable to reach the toolbox with their guns as it was still in the van. Fusco pulled zip ties from his pocket and bound each man's hands.

John and Joss pulled up behind the van a couple of minutes later and got off the bike. "Second time I've taken down two professional assassins by myself. Who's the man?" Fusco crowed triumphantly at his comrades.

John took his helmet off. "Don't break your arm patting yourself on the back just yet," he said. "We still have six guys cleaning out the vault at the Diamond Exchange to worry about."

"Did you use that old Chihuahua bit again?" Joss grinned at her partner.

"It's not old, it's a classic! And it works every time," Fusco was feeling good.

Joss laughed, and even John cracked a small smile. Then they helped lock the would-be assassins in the back of the van, trussed up like Thanksgiving turkeys. John used his untraceable burner to call in an anonymous tip to the local authorities and then they got out of there. They didn't have time to answer questions right then. They had to get to the Diamond Exchange.

* * *

**NOTE: Before anyone thinks I'm some sort of criminal genius, I borrowed the details from a real life diamond heist. If you want to know more about the real life heist go to www dot wired dot com slash politics/law/magazine/17-04/ ff_diamonds?currentPage=all**


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10 - Getaway**

Back at the Diamond Exchange vault, things were going very smoothly for Wesley and his crew. The floor was littered with the remains of the numerous boxes they had drilled open; Wesley had lost count of how many. Every box they opened was full of lovely diamonds and other valuables, and the duffle bags they had brought with them were full. Wesley was pretty sure that their haul was well in excess of the promised 100 million bucks. His men were euphoric.

"Alright, the bags are full, let's get out of here," Wesley finally said.

Each man grabbed a bag, groaning under their weight, but they bore their burden happily. They knew all that weight made them rich. They dragged the bags to the hallway and Wesley closed the vault door, scrambling the combination, while Goldberg returned to the key to utility closet. The guards usually did not patrol the building, preferring to rely on their technology; but if they did a patrol, they would not notice anything amiss until Monday morning when they opened the vault.

The men made their way through the building to the back entrance, once again the security cameras only showed empty hallways. The only hint the guards had that something wasn't quite right was when Wesley opened the back door, a signal was sent to the control room. However when the guards checked the cameras that covered the back door, they saw the door firmly shut and no one around. They chalked it up to a false alarm and went back to reading their books and listening to the game on the radio.

Wesley and the rest of the gang hauled the heavy bags to the SUVs and loaded them in. Their plan was to get out of town to a rented house in Westchester county. They would rest up there through the weekend, meeting up with the men who were watching Detective Carter and the men who were to kill Mrs. Goldberg.

From there the gang would split up again, each man would fly out of a different airport, and they would all converge back in London in about a week. That way even if one man got caught the rest still had a chance to get away.

Before returning to London, each man would take a small portion of the diamonds to various buyers who had already been lined up around the world. Since the loot was being split up so many ways, no one buyer was being offered enough to arouse any suspicions.

Goldberg would be left behind at the Westchester rental. On Monday he would call the police with a tearful story of how his house was invaded, his wife shot, and how he was forced to cooperate in the robbery at gunpoint and then left locked in a closet after the gang made their getaway. Wesley would beat him up a bit and shoot him in the shoulder to make the story look good. Goldberg wasn't too crazy about the shooting part of the plan, but the thought of finally being able to marry his mistress and travel was enough to overcome his objections.

The diamonds Goldberg had removed from his box in the Diamond Exchange before the robbery were hidden in a floor safe in his house that not even his wife knew about. He would file an insurance claim for the supposedly stolen diamonds, then sell them on the black market. In a about year he would marry his mistress and he would retire.

Wesley had planned the whole thing carefully, and everything was going like clockwork. Or so he thought.

* * *

As John, Joss and Lionel pulled out of Goldberg's neighborhood, they received another call from Finch.

"Mr. Tao reports that Wesley and his men are leaving the Diamond Exchange with six very full duffle bags."

"Geez," Lionel said, "Six bags full of diamonds is quite a haul. No wonder they were willing to kill for it."

"That's a lot of money," John agreed. "Which way are they going?"

Finch checked the map on his monitor, "Looks like they are heading north out of the city."

"Did Wesley visit any place north of the city?"

"Checking…" Finch glanced over at Caleb and Caleb nodded. "Yes, yes he did. Sending you the address now."

"Is there some place along the route where we can intercept them and not endanger innocent lives?"

Reese, Carter and Fusco heard the sound of typing on the other end for a few moments, than Finch responded. "There is perfect stretch of road a couple of miles south of the address. There are ditches on either side of the road, no homes or business for a couple of miles."

"We'll intercept them there then." John turned the bike north while Joss tightly held onto him and Lionel followed in his unmarked car.

* * *

They caught up to Wesley's SUV a few miles south of the deserted stretch of road. Leon had followed the thieves using the tracking devices to stay far enough back so he wouldn't be seen, and he fell into line behind Fusco.

"How do you want to do this Boss?" Fusco asked.

"Joss will shoot out their tires and I want you to use the car to make sure they run off the road."

"Got it."

John felt Joss lift his gun from his waistband. "You're going to have to shoot fast, honey, before they figure out what we are up to. We're pretty exposed here on the bike."

"I got this, you just hold the bike steady," she replied calmly.

They hit the beginning of the lonely stretch of road and John gunned the bike. He easily caught up to the second SUV and passed on the left, keeping in mind that Joss was right handed. The men in the SUV had no chance to react when Joss whipped out the gun and quickly pumped two bullets into the front tire on the driver's side. The SUV swerved sharply and Fusco delivered the killing blow by ramming the vehicle from behind and to the side. It spun off the road and overturned in the ditch. Leon pulled over to check on the occupants while Reese and Fusco raced forward to the leading SUV.

As they caught up to the remaining SUV, John glanced over and saw Wesley sitting in the passenger seat, his face a mixture of surprise and anger. John saw Wesley draw his gun, but his ability to shoot was hindered by the fact the he was on the far side of the car. Wesley started to lean across the driver to fire, when Joss pumped two bullets in the front tire and Fusco rammed them from behind. The SUV swerved into the ditch and rolled over on its side. Fusco pulled over and got out of the car, gun drawn. John dropped Joss off to help Lionel and then raced back to where the first SUV ran off the road to help Leon.

John pulled up to the SUV and he leaped off the bike to help Leon with the occupants. There were four men inside and two were unconscious; one had a broken leg and the fourth, Goldberg, was mostly unhurt, but simply too scared to move.

John looked up as he and Leon finished up triaging the men, and saw Fusco and Carter pulling up in the car with the driver of the other SUV handcuffed in the back seat. The man had blood trickling from a superficial cut on his forehead, but he appeared otherwise unhurt.

"Where's Wesley?" John growled.

Fusco shook his head, "Gone, by the time I got out of the car and got down to the SUV, this was only guy in there. Sorry John."

Joss was plainly mad "I wanted Wesley!" Her upper lip curled into a snarl.

John growled in frustration, "I should have known Wesley would get away. He's too dangerous for us to hunt for him in the dark."

Joss turned to her partner, "Did you call for backup?"

Fusco nodded, "Yeah, they should be here in little while. Along with several ambulances."

John started walking back to the Ducati, "Leon and I'd better get out of here then. Will you two be OK?"

Joss nodded, "Yeah, none of these guys are in any shape to put up a fight."

"Good, I have to go take care of the operatives who are watching the apartment." John strapped on his helmet and started the motorcycle. Just before he took off, he turned and looked at Joss and their eyes met. Joss saw the love in John's eyes. She smiled back at him and John threw the bike into gear.

Fusco watched John race off on the bike. He turned to Joss with a big grin, "Let's see, ten injured bad guys, two wrecked cars and 100 million dollars in diamonds. Just another day at the office when you work with the Suit."

Joss laughed as she slapped the cuffs on Goldberg, "You gotta admit, life's not boring with John."

Lionel snorted, "Boring? I forgot the meaning of the word."

* * *

**This is the next to last chapter, last chapter will be posted on Monday.**


	11. Chapter 11

**Last chapter! Thanks to everyone who left a review, I'm glad you all enjoyed this so much!**

**Another big hug to my betas ReeseisLAVAhot and SassyJ. **

* * *

**Chapter 11 – End Game**

Later the next morning, when Lionel and Joss had answered all the questions and the suspects had all been safely booked and thrown in jail, the team met at an anonymous little diner not too far from the apartment for a very late breakfast.

"The entire gang minus Wesley is in jail and not going anywhere," Joss reported wearily.

"Caleb and I have been searching for Wesley using facial recognition software; I expect to find him shortly. Will you be able to arrest him when we find him?" Finch asked.

Joss shook her head, "No proof. We can only get the gang members we caught red handed with the stolen goods. There was no evidence left behind in the vault and the gang members we caught aren't talking. I'm guessing they are afraid of what Wesley will do to them and their families if they finger him as the ringleader."

"That means we still have a very serious problem," John said quietly.

Finch, Carter and Fusco all looked at him.

"Wesley will still come after Joss. He said he would kill her if I interfered with his plans and his pride and reputation demand that he follow through on that threat. We need to come up with a plan to protect her."

"I've already thought of that, Mr. Reese," and Finch removed a picture from his inside suit jacket pocket and pushed it across the table to John. John and Joss looked at it and John pushed the picture back. "No," he said firmly. "That's what Wesley would do, that's what the old John Reese would do. I'm not that person anymore." John paused and looked at Joss. "I won't be that person anymore," he said softly, his voice choked with emotion.

Joss's eyes had tears forming on the bottom lids and she placed her hand over John's, "I agree. I want to be safe, but not at that cost." John turned his hand so he was holding Joss's hand firmly.

Finch pushed the picture back over to John, "Mr. Wesley doesn't know you aren't the same man he observed in the marketplace in Turkey. Mr. Wesley is the same man he always was. It would never occur to him that you are not. You see Mr. Reese, it doesn't matter who you _**are**_, what matters is who Wesley _**thinks**_ you are."

John looked at Finch for a minute absorbing the implications of that statement and then he nodded. He looked over at Joss and she nodded too, her eyes still glistening with tears.

Finch's phone buzzed and he put it on speaker, "Caleb, have you found Mr. Wesley yet?"

"The facial recognition software just picked him up in one of the bars in the international terminal at LaGuardia."

"When is his flight?"

Caleb chuckled, "Don't worry about that, Mr. Finch. His flight has been cancelled. Seems there was a problem with the maintenance records of the plane. He can't get on another flight for a few hours."

John got up from the table, "On my way."

He bent over to kiss Joss goodbye. "Go back to the library with Finch. Stay there and wait for me. Fusco, you stay with them. Make sure you're not followed; I need you someplace safe while I handle this. For all we know Wesley may already have people looking for Joss."

"Roger, Boss," Fusco replied.

Joss tenderly cupped John's cheek with her hand, "Be careful."

John turned his head and kissed her palm tenderly, "I will. See you soon." And then he turned and strode purposefully out of the diner.

* * *

John walked into the airport lounge where Alistair Wesley was passing the time waiting for the next flight.

Reese sat down on the stool next to Wesley. Reese could feel the man's muscles tense as Wesley realized who was sitting next to him. "Hello, Alistair," John said casually with a slight smile, keeping himself relaxed. He waved to the bartender, "Just coffee, black."

Wesley took a sip of his own drink and turned to Reese, "You won't be able to hide your little pet detective from me forever," his eyes were hard and cold.

"Won't have to," Reese said coldly as he reached into his inside pocket, withdrew the picture that Finch had given him and placed it on the bar. Wesley looked down at it and sucked in his breath with an audible hiss.

"My daughters! You wouldn't DARE!" Wesley was furious.

Reese placidly took a sip of the coffee the bartender placed in front of him. "I didn't start this, Alistair. I'm just finishing it," he softly reminded the other man.

Wesley glared at Reese, "I assume this means that if I touch your family you will go after mine?"

Reese sat his coffee down and looked hard at Wesley. "You were in that marketplace. You saw what I'm capable of. I have access to money and resources; you won't be able to hide them, any more than I could hide my family from you."

Reese and Wesley remained staring at each other for several seconds. Then Wesley visibly relaxed, his shoulders slumping just the tiniest bit, and he sighed. "Mutual Assured Destruction, MAD. It worked during the Cold War; I suppose that's fair." He tossed back the rest of his drink. "Alright Reese, you have my word that I will not touch the lovely Ms. Carter or anyone else who is important to you."

Reese nodded, his face the hard and cold mask of the trained killer, "As long as you keep your word, I will keep mine. I will not strike first, but rest assured, Alistair, I WILL strike last."

Wesley said simply, "Understood." And he got up, but before he could walk out, John's voice stopped him.

"Stay out of New York, Alistair. This is my home."

Wesley gave John a hard stare and he left the lounge without another word.

Reese smiled, and then left for the library and Joss.

* * *

John entered the computer room of the library a short time later. Finch was at his workstation and Fusco was relaxing in the only other chair in the room.

"How'd it go?" Fusco asked. "Did he buy into the whole détente thing?"

Reese nodded. "He wasn't happy about it, but he clearly thinks I will kill innocent children if he touches a hair on Joss's or Taylor's heads."

"Of course he does, because that's what that sick bastard would do," Fusco snapped.

John looked down at the floor, ashamed of what he was about to admit. "He believes it because there was a time when _I_ would have hurt those kids."

Finch broke in, "That man died a few years ago in Ordos, Mr. Reese, we all know that. Fortunately for us, Mr. Wesley does not."

Fusco nodded his agreement, "Yeah John, I seen you with kids. I know you wouldn't do nuthin' like that."

"Thanks, both of you, for you faith in me," John said softly.

Finch's gaze didn't waver. "You earned it John, you truly have."

John looked around the room, "Where's Joss?"

"She went to take a shower and wash off all trace of her recent incarceration. I suspect that by now she is in your room changing into fresh clothing," Finch told him

"Thanks."

John walked up to the next floor that held what used to be conference rooms, offices and a small employee locker room that held the shower. Several of the rooms had been converted to bedrooms that could be used in a pinch. They were functional rather than luxurious; each room was equipped with a bed from a furniture store that sold unassembled furniture since boxes were easier than whole beds to smuggle into the building in the middle of the night. Clothes were hung on functional clothes racks rather than in closets or armoires and cardboard boxes were used instead of dressers. Despite the somewhat Spartan accommodations, the rooms were comfortable enough to be used for several days at time if needed. It was not unusual for Finch and Reese to stay there while working on a case, and on occasion Joss and Fusco would stay was well. Fusco and Finch each had their own small rooms and Joss would stay with John in his. Joss had also been eyeing the room next to John's for Taylor for emergencies.

John walked into the room and was rewarded with the sight of Joss standing in front of the clothes rack in nothing but a towel as she flipped through the clothes looking for something to wear. Her back was to him and she had no idea he was there. He decided to watch her for a few minutes before he announced his presence.

She was beautiful. Her long black hair fell loosely down her back and the towel did nothing to hide her exquisite figure. Joss was of average height, but her legs were surprisingly long in proportion to the rest of her.

John smiled and shut the door and the sound caused Joss to turn around.

"Well?" she asked. Then she nervously bit her lip while the frown line appeared between her eyebrows.

"It's done. Wesley fell for it. You and Taylor are safe, at least from the British invasion."

Joss let out a deep breath and briefly closed her eyes. "I don't know what we would have done if that hadn't worked."

John stared at her, his eyes soft with love, "I would have taken you far away from New York and stood guard over you night and day if I had to."

"Oh John…"

"You were in danger because of me. I'm sorry Joss. I shouldn't have brought you into my world."

"This was not your fault, John. You did everything you could to convince me not to pursue this. I knew what I was getting into when you brought me in. You've never once lied to me or tried to gloss anything over. It was my choice, and I have not regretted it, not for one minute. You've been worth it, all of it. You're a good man, John."

John was unable to meet her eyes. He was humbled by the fact that someone like her thought he was worthy of her love and respect.

"If I'm a good man, it's only because you make me want to be one."

"Then we're even. You've made me a better person too."

John looked at her in surprise, "But you've compromised your principles so often…"

"I think they needed compromising. No, wait hear me out," Joss held her hand up when John opened his mouth to protest. "Yeah I've broken a lot of rules since you and have been working together, but you were right when you told me that I could have my rules, or I could save lives. I chose to save lives and it was the right choice. There is such a thing as being too rigid, too rule bound, and that's exactly what I was.

"Don't get me wrong, I struggled with it at first. I struggled a lot. I think moving Stills body for Fusco and then saving Elias's miserable butt were the low points. But you know what? It turned out to be the right thing to do, because I do believe in second chances and I do believe people can reform and change for the better. I just needed to back that up with my actions.

"I've never been one to color outside the lines, and you don't even seem to know that there _are_ lines, but the truth, the right thing, seems to lie somewhere in the middle. You helped me find that middle just like I helped you."

John looked down at his feet, "I think you come closer to the right thing more often than I do."

Joss sighed and rubbed her temples, "You're just not going to let me off the pedestal are you?"

John grinned at her, "Nope, if anything, you just convinced me that you belong up there even more. When I grow up I want to be just like you."

Joss smiled at him, "You're going to have to lose a few inches, get out in the sun more and change gender."

John laughed. He crossed the room swiftly and put the shirt Joss was holding back on the rack. "You're not going to need that for a while," he said with a smile. One quick tug and the towel fell to the floor and Joss was gloriously naked in front of him.

Joss laughed and pushed John's jacket off his shoulders, "You're overdressed Mr. Reese."

John hastily divested himself of his clothing with Joss's help. He needed to feel her beneath him, to reassure himself that his anchor was still there, that she was still his. She seemed to need the reassurance of his touch every bit as much as he needed hers.

They fell together on the bed, touching, feeling, and tasting each other. John pinned her beneath him and stared down into her eyes while a tear rolled unchecked down his cheek. Joss gently reached up and brushed it away.

"Don't," she said. "Don't, baby. I'm here, I'm fine."

She _was_ there, and she _was_ fine. John gently kissed her with so much love and tenderness that Joss had never felt more cherished than she did at that moment.

Their bodies entwined lovingly in a dance that was very familiar to them, but they could never seem to get enough of.

John entered her gently, reverently. He needed to be surrounded by her, to find his place within her again; to reassure himself she was still with him. She was precious and irreplaceable and he had come too close to losing her.

Joss was once again amazed that this former man of violence could be so gentle, so tender. She loved him, she loved him with her whole heart and she meant every single word she'd said to him earlier.

They started slowly and the dance grew hotter, faster, more urgent. They climaxed together, with other's names on their lips.

Reese rolled over onto his back, holding Joss to his chest, unashamed of the tears that ran down his face. Joss noticed and reached up to brush them away. "John…"

"I could have lost you."

"You didn't. I'm right here."

John gently touched the bruise on the side of her face from when Douglas had hit her, "I can't lose you. I will never let you go."

"I'm not going anywhere."

John just held her tightly for a long time.

* * *

Approximately six months later the Organized Crime Unit of the NYPD arrived to work to find a several boxes mysteriously placed on their desks. No one saw who put the boxes there and the security cameras in the precinct were inexplicably not working.

Upon opening the mysterious boxes, the detectives discovered all the evidence they needed to indict Don Grifoni and all of his top men with breaking over half the criminal codes of the state of New York. There was a very large party in the Organized Crime Unit that night and a lot of street hardened cops suddenly started believing in Santa Claus, the Tooth Fairy and the Easter Bunny.

Despite the efforts of the best lawyers money could buy, the evidence was overwhelming and airtight. Grifoni and his men were convicted of numerous counts of murder, conspiracy, racketeering, money laundering and a very long list of crimes too numerous to list. The Don's organization was completely destroyed.

On the day of his final court appearance, as Grifoni was led out of the courthouse in chains to begin a sentence that was more than long enough to ensure he would die in prison, he spied the Man in a Suit standing among the crowd with a big smirk on his face. Grifoni turned to look at the Suit in surprise, wondering what the mysterious man was doing there and why he looked so damn smug. Then the Don suddenly realized that his conviction may have been more than just good police work. His mouth fell open and he glared at the Suit. The Suit merely gave Grifoni a cheerful nod and then vanished into the crowd.


End file.
